


Champagne and marshmallows

by DefaultJane



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Asexual Character, Banter, F/F, Female Friendship, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Hunniper - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-06 09:50:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6748882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefaultJane/pseuds/DefaultJane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hunnigan has been invited to her sister's wedding and is considering hiring an escort rather than going alone and putting up with her nosey family members ask her "when's your turn?" Fortunately for her, that's when Helena turns up and makes an offer Hunnigan can't refuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The top shelf stuff

**Author's Note:**

> This began life as a sentence in another fic in which I had another character mention he'd faked being Hunnigan's date for her sister's wedding. So... then I just kinda went with it after switching it around a bit.
> 
> Standard disclaimer #1: everything Resident Evil belongs to Capcom&pals, the rest to yours truly.
> 
> Standard disclaimer #2: Well, what do you want from me, I wrote it in a day.. or two.
> 
> Standard disclaimer #3: I didn't want to, I HAD to.

* * *

 

Out of all the people Helena had ever expected to run into at O’Connell’s after work, she’d always imagined she’d be more likely to run into the Pope than into Ingrid Hunnigan. Yet there she was, in her trademark power suit, fingers resting on the side of a collins glass filled with... something that Helena assumed contained coke based on the color. Ice clinked faintly when she tilted the glass back and emptied it before nodding subtly to the bartender who eagerly returned to cater to her needs.

“My goodness, you’re not at your post, what’s happening, is the world ending?” Helena jested as she slid onto the seat next to Hunnigan. The older woman let out an amused scoff. It was true that she wasn’t often seen hanging out with her co-workers (frankly, she wasn’t hanging out with them now either, she sat at the bar by herself) nor were they often provided with a chance to interact with her outside the office hours.

“When isn’t it ending?” Hunnigan chuckled a response and took a sip of her rum and coke as Helena ordered herself a pint.

“So, the overwhelming feeling of meaninglessness and the realization that no matter how hard we try, the world will be on the verge of total chaos nonstop got you drinking or is it something worse, like... discovering a gray hair or...”

“And just like that, I remembered why trying to have a decent conversation with a twenty-something makes me want to poke myself in the eye with a used toothpick,” Hunnigan rolled her eyes and Helena chuckled.  
“Give me some credit, at least I’m not taking duckface-selfies while you’re pouring your heart out to me,” she smiled and sipped her beer. Hunnigan shrugged one shoulder and nodded in agreement.

“So, what’s the real reason?” Helena then asked.  
“My sister’s getting married.”

“Ah, so you’re having one those Bridget Jones-kind of ‘I’m thirty and unwed’-types of crises?”  
“Is that what _Bridget Jones’s diary_ was about?” Hunnigan frowned.

“I have no idea, I’ve never watched the movie let alone read the book, I loathe the entire concept of romantic comedies,” Helena shrugged and Hunnigan chuckled.

“I’ll drink to that. And no, that’s not the crisis. Or, it is, but not in the sense you think it is. I’m expected to attend the wedding which means I’ll have to endure a bunch of aunties pinching my cheeks and asking when’s my turn,” Hunnigan groaned and rolled her eyes at the mere thought.

“Pro-tip, they’ll leave you alone if you start doing the same to them at funerals,” Helena grinned devilishly and Hunnigan burst out laughing.

“I’ll remember that, thanks! Of course, turning up without a date will also inevitably end up with my mother trying to pimp me out to the groom’s 87 year old uncle or something like that. Just thinking about it makes me cringe, I was almost considering asking Leon to be my fake date.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yes, but then I stopped to think of the property damage he’d undoubtedly cause after a night at the open bar, and decided hiring an escort would be cheaper,” Hunnigan jested. Helena took another sip of her beer and pursed her lips as she pondered.

“I’ll be your date,” she offered cheerfully and Hunnigan doubled over in laughter.

“What? I clean up well! Imagine this rack and these deltoids in a strapless dress, you’ll be the envy of your entire clan. Plus, you don’t have to pay me, all I want is access to that open bar you mentioned,” she quirked an eyebrow as Hunnigan inhaled deeply, slowly trying to recover from her laughing fit.

“That’s not why I was laughing, I was just trying to imagine the looks on my family members’ faces if I turned up with a woman.”  
“Would there be screaming about what an abomination homosexuality is? Because if yes, then you _must_ take me to meet the folks,” Helena said, rubbing her hands together like an evil villain.

“No, they’re too polite to actually say anything, they’d be screaming internally,” Hunnigan chuckled.  
“Oh, my God, that’s even better! I can imagine all the eye twitching, clenching teeth and veins popping as they try to contain themselves. And if that alone is not enough to convince you to take me, there’s yet another silver lining.”

“Which is?” Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow curiously. She wondered if she was getting drunk or if Helena was actually making a good point. Probably the latter considering she’d had only one rum and coke so far, and despite not being known for her ability to hold her liquor, it would still take a bit more than that to get her drunk.

“Well, if they think you’ve joined the rabid lesbian horde and are now actively practicing witchcraft and science, you can rest assured they won’t ask another question about your personal life ever again. Or if they do, you can silence them by saying you’re still very happy eating pussy and have no plans to stop,” Helena shrugged innocently. Hunnigan inhaled her drink at the lewd comment and Helena reached to pat her back. Hunnigan pressed her palm against her chest and inhaled deeply, nodding her head slowly after surviving the worst of the coughing fit.

“You make a compelling argument,” she cleared her throat.

“Well, you had me at ‘open bar’. So, is it your younger sister or older who’s getting married?” Helena then inquired, figuring she should at least find out something about the bride if she were to attend the wedding, even if her intention was to be there merely to silently troll the family just by being there.

“Younger, I’m the eldest. I have three sisters and four brothers,” Hunnigan said and this time it was Helena’s turn to inhale her drink in surprise at what was said.  
“So there’s eight of you total? Are your parents...”

“Catholic.”  
“I was gonna say ‘rabbits’, but that actually explains it just as well. Doesn’t make it less disturbing, though.”

“What’s really disturbing is the fact that all of our birthdays are roughly nine months from dad’s birthday, I think we can guess what mom’s been giving him for his birthday. Ew, why did I go there?” Hunnigan then made a face and shook her head before taking a long sip of her drink and Helena chuckled.

“That’s nothing, Deborah’s birthday was roughly three years and nine months from mine... meaning she was conceived on my third birthday,” Helena commented.  
“I didn’t realize this was a competition. But fine, you win,” Hunnigan smiled.

“Okay, so, give me the basics I’m expected to know if we’re gonna put on a facade of having been in a relationship for a while. Names, birthdays, pets, all that nonsense,” Helena then requested, realizing she didn’t really know much anything about Hunnigan. Then again, why would she have, most of their interactions were restricted to Hunnigan being her intelligence liaison, they weren’t exactly friends in the sense that they’d sit around braiding each other’s hair.

“It’s gonna be thick file,” Hunnigan jested, needing a moment to mentally piece if together herself. She’d given up trying to keep track of her siblings’ birthdays years ago.

“The bride’s name is Saskia, she’s twenty-eight, the second eldest. Then there’s Louise, she’s twenty-five... followed by my twenty-two year old brother Simon... Tristan, nineteen... Eric, sixteen... Andrew, fourteen... and finally the baby of the bunch, my twelve year old sister Annika. Still with me?” Hunnigan listed and Helena scratched the back of her neck awkwardly, having lost track after the second sister.

“My parents’ names are Jack and Margaret. Oh, and as far as anyone’s concerned, I’m just a mild-mannered network security specialist working for the NSA.”  
“Ah, they live in the happy laa-laa-land where zombies don’t exist.”

“As do a lot of people, and frankly I think it’s better that way.”  
“Yeah, I guess so,” Helena shrugged.

She had to wonder how the acts of bioterrorism weren’t common knowledge considering the large scale outbreaks that had been going on for years. Sure, the cover stories were decent enough, but even then there had to be people who leaked the truth. She supposed it came down to what was easier to believe; that the person ranting about zombies and mutants was a paranoid nutjob who mistook a flashmob of cosplayers too seriously, or that such things truly existed. Helena admitted that had she not had first-hand experience, she probably wouldn’t have believed it herself either.

Out of all the people who went missing on a daily basis, how many were actually abducted by groups like Neo-Umbrella, or any other sinister organization operating behind the curtains? How many people were being taken and used as human guinea pigs right now? How many of them were never even missed? One was too many.

_But would I care, would I know if it hadn’t happened to someone I loved? No. When it’s anyone else, they’re just a name on a list._

“Are you okay?” Hunnigan inquired after Helena had become oddly serious all of a sudden.  
“Yeah, I was just... thinking,” she shrugged and Hunnigan nodded.

“Let me guess... ‘How can they not know?’” she said and Helena nodded slowly, “The better question would be what is so bad that the people behind the attacks would rather distract us with a horde of zombies than let us see what they’re really up to.”

“Oh, now you’re just making my head hurt on purpose,” Helena complained.

“You know what they say, ignorance is bliss. Sometimes I’d rather not know everything I know... but at the same time, my compulsive need to know everything demands I dig deeper. It’s a pretty miserable existence really,” Hunnigan chuckled ruefully.

“Ever consider just quitting?”  
“Do you?” Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow and Helena shook her head. No, of course she didn’t. Especially knowing what she knew, how could she just get up and leave, hoping that the next person taking over won’t get it all wrong?

“I do what I do because someone has to, but also because I’m good at it. I can’t single-handedly put a stop to everything that’s wrong, but I can make it better. That is my path,” Hunnigan commented quietly.  
“This is getting depressing, can we get back to talking about your family? You never mentioned any pets. Surely you had a pet gold fish or something.”

“To me talking about my family is more depressing,” Hunnigan smirked and Helena chuckled, shaking her head a little, “As for pets, we have a dog named Catnip.”

“Seriously?” Helena quirked an eyebrow.  
“No, but the truth about not having any pets is boring.”

“I never knew you had a sense of humor.”  
“Yeah, my sense of humor is my best kept secret,” Hunnigan nodded and finished her drink. She spun the ice at the bottom of the glass for a moment, silently contemplating on ordering a third. She decided not to.

“So, when’s the wedding? Gotta dig out my church-panties for the occasion.”  
“Two weeks... Too short notice?”

“You’re the one who coordinates my missions, you should know if I’m booked,” Helena taunted.

“I’ll clear your schedule,” Hunnigan promised with a smirk and left after saying good night.

 

***


	2. The wedding

* * *

_The art featured in this chapter was commissioned from the fantastic **[Liillin](http://liillin.tumblr.com/),** I highly recommend checking her page out!_

* * *

 

“Stop enjoying yourself, it’s unseemly,” Hunnigan grinned at Helena as they mingled at the reception venue during the cocktail hour after the newlyweds had left to get a bunch of photos taken.

“I can’t help it, I’m loving all this negative attention and knowing everyone’s too polite to actually say anything,” Helena almost squealed in excitement.

“You’re a regular troll, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, it’s so much more fun being one in person than it is to troll someone online,” Helena agreed happily, moving to wrap her arm around Hunnigan’s waist and resting her hand on hip like doing so was the most natural thing in the world.

“My dad looks like he’s about to explode,” Hunnigan muttered and reached to grab a glass of champagne from a server as he passed by them.

“I bet he would start screaming if we shared one of those open-mouth kisses you see in porn movies. Y’know, the kind that’s more tongues and drool than actual kissing,” Helena taunted and Hunnigan chuckled.

“That’s so sexy I think my nipples inverted all the way into my spine,” she commented dryly and sipped her drink.

“Speaking of nipples, your brother looks like he has a hard-on for me,” Helena said, glancing at Andrew who sat at a table, slumped over, resting his forearms to his thighs.

“He’s fourteen, he gets an erection if he even hears the word ‘boobs’. After seeing you, he probably needs a fresh pair of underwear,” Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow, glancing at Helena’s cleavage. The younger woman hadn’t worn a strapless dress like she’d boasted before, instead she wore a black pinstripe suit and underneath it a deep purple shirt with the top buttons open.

 

 “I’d hide them if I could, but the last thing we need is a button popping off and ending up in someone’s eye,” Helena shrugged.

“Point taken, but don’t encourage the boys, they’re already about to come up to you, say hi and run away giggling,” Hunnigan smiled as she noticed the way Eric was staring, desperately trying to look like he wasn’t looking, and blushing. He was Hunnigan’s buddy, the shy one of the bunch and, much like the eldest sister, preferred spending his time around computers and gadgets rather than socialize with people face-to-face.

“You know, if someone actually did that instead of giving me some lame version of ‘come here often?’, I’d give them my number in a heartbeat.”  
“You’d have to catch them first,” Hunnigan quipped and Helena laughed.

The guests were seated prior to the master of ceremonies introducing the couple’s parents and finally announcing the newlyweds’ arrival and their first dance.

Helena had never attended a wedding before and she had been expecting it to get tedious at some point –especially when considering she didn’t even know any of these people-, but it was proving to be even more boring than she’d assumed. As the toasts and cheers went on and on, Helena took comfort in the fact that Hunnigan seemed to be rather bored as well. Finally, the meals were served and Helena almost groaned out loud in relief.

For a moment she thought she had when she felt Hunnigan nudge her leg under the table, but then she realized that wasn’t it. The problem was that she’d leaned her head back and inhaled deeply, causing her chest to pop out and Eric, Hunnigan’s favorite little brother sitting across from Helena, looked like he was about to blush to death.

“Calm down, it’s just an excessive amount of chest fat, nothing special about it,” Helena said innocently to the boy and Hunnigan had to bite the inside of her cheek hard enough to bruise the soft flesh to keep from laughing.

“Helena...” Hunnigan murmured, trying to sound like she was seriously warning her, but not quite managing.

“I will not apologize for my giant-enormous-humongo-boobs, if the adolescents present can’t contain their orgasms, it’s their problem, not mine, and I shouldn’t be required to indulge their poor willpower,” Helena reasoned softly.

“It’s a good thing we’re not actually a couple, I could never stay mad at you,” Hunnigan chuckled silently.  
“Or maybe I seem funny as hell because you’ve been two-fisting champagne,” Helena commented, grinning.

“Oh, now there’s another combination of words you could drop from your vocabulary when you’re around teenaged boys.”

“Two-fisting is a legit term!” Helena said, a lot louder than was necessary, causing a few heads to turn, “...for drinking excessively, I mean,” she added then and cleared her throat awkwardly as Hunnigan cradled her forehead in her palm and tried not to laugh. So far everything was actually going better than expected. She was beginning to think she should’ve introduced Helena as her girlfriend years ago.

 

* * *

 

After the meal, it was finally party time. While taking advantage of the bar herself, Helena was secretly hoping someone would get drunk and do something embarrassing... and entertaining. So far no one seemed to be on the verge of having a jealous meltdown over who got picked for maid of honor nor was anyone’s drunken date grinding on one of the elderly guests. Hunnigan was getting kind of drunk, Helena noticed, but she wasn’t the type to have an outburst. Apparently that ran in the family. Helena had to admit she was a bit disappointed her attempts at shocking and terrifying the mild-mannered upper class people had failed. Helena didn’t consider causing a few awkward boners a victory, she was fairly certain she caused some on a daily basis even without trying.

“Should I go for the bouquet?” Helena inquired when the bouquet toss was about to take place. Hunnigan swallowed her drink and shook her head.  
“You can’t.”

“Are you kidding? I can beat all those girls to the bouquet with my eyes closed and both hands tied behind my back,” Helena boasted and Hunnigan chuckled.

“I’m sure you can, but, uh, it’s for single women only, and you’re here... you’re... you’re supposedly spoken for. Unless, uh, of course you want to break up,” Hunnigan explained, stammering a little like she did when she began slipping from completely coherent and sober to a wee bit tipsy.

Helena didn’t have a chance to comment. The bride tossed the bouquet and for a while people were cheering and applauding and then... something went wrong.  
“Finally, some action!” Helena stifled a laugh at the sight of two girls brawling over the bouquet.

“Instead of gloating, could you stop them?” Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow, knowing well that if anyone were likely to step in to interrupt and walk away without getting punched by both parties, it was Helena.

“And here I was thinking I was off-duty,” Helena sighed but went to help resolve the situation, barely managing to dodge getting hit in the face with the bouquet as she helped Hunnigan’s oldest brother (whose name she’d forgotten, Simon was it?) and the groom’s brother pull the brawling young women away from each other. She was tempted to keep the damn bouquet herself and scold the women like they were four, but instead she presented the flowers to Hunnigan’s brother, shrugged and went to get another drink.

“My hero,” Hunnigan smiled sweetly and Helena paused for a moment to do a Superman-pose with her hands on her hips.

“Well, at least no one threw up on the bride and or shared stories about how they used to do drugs with the groom, so it’s not so bad,” Helena shrugged as she accepted her drink from the bartender.

“Get me a few more drinks and I could toss my cookies on the bride,” Hunnigan commented and Helena’s eyebrows rose in surprise.  
“You feeling sick or just annoyed at your sister?”

“The latter. Saskia the Scientist and her flawless track record at life with her perfect complexion and handsome husband and blergh,” Hunnigan muttered and Helena snorted.  
“I sense more than a hint of sibling rivalry.”

“The sad part is that it’s not really even her fault, I mean it’s our parents who’ve pitted us against each other since we were kids. I assume you can tell which one of us always comes out of that looking pretty.”

“Well, you might not be a scientist, but you help save the world from them when they do stupid shit like, say, decide to dedicate their lives to creating shit that’ll turn people into zombies,” Helena comforted in a soft mutter and Hunnigan chuckled.

“She’s not even that kind of a scientist, she’s got a doctorate in alternative medicine and she specializes in reflexology... which, I might add, is a total bullshit field of medicine, alternative or otherwise,” Hunnigan huffed and took a sip of her drink, “As for what I do, I told you, they don’t know the truth, so as far as they’re concerned I sit in a cubicle and spy on people’s emails,” she continued then.

“For what it’s worth, I know what you do, and I appreciate it,” Helena offered sincerely.

“I’m glad someone does,” Hunnigan smiled and cupped Helena’s cheek with her palm for a moment. Actually, what was meant as a gentle gesture turned more into a half-hearted slap due to her somewhat drunken state and inability to control the force of her hand quite as well as would’ve been preferred.

“I’m sorry, that was... totally not meant to be a bitch slap,” she apologized and Helena chuckled.  
“I know, don’t worry about it,” she assured and took Hunnigan’s hand into her own, “You wanna get outta here?” Helena then asked quietly.

“Yes, but we can’t. They haven’t cut the damn cake yet, but it shouldn’t be too long,” Hunnigan answered, looking around and realizing the tables had already been prepared for coffee and dessert.  
“I never realized weddings could be so boring.”  
“I know, right? Don’t worry, I promise we’ll leave the moment they’ve smeared each other’s faces with cake.”

***


	3. The wedding night

* * *

 

“Aw, crap, my feet are killing me,” Hunnigan complained as they walked toward their hotel from the reception venue.  
“I told you we should take a cab, but you wanted to walk,” Helena said unhelpfully.

“Yes, yes, I made a mistake, sue me,” Hunnigan chuckled and reached to take her shoes off.  
“You’re not seriously planning on walking barefoot the rest of the way!” Helena rolled her eyes.

“Better than the alternative,” Hunnigan argued, slurring a little.  
“All right, come on. I’ll give you a piggyback-ride.”

“Pft, if I got on your back wearing this dress, everyone’d be seein’ my business,” Hunnigan laughed and Helena shrugged.  
“Better than the alternative,” she imitated Hunnigan’s previous argument and stopped, reaching her hands behind herself a little, wiggling her fingers.

“Come on, Drunkerella,” she encouraged. Hunnigan sighed, hitched the edge of her dress halfway up her thighs and hopped on as Helena firmly reached to grip the backs of her knees and shrugged to adjust her a little.  
“If I’m Drunkerella, then you’re... Uh, you’re... Wait, I had something for this,” Hunnigan muttered, crossing her arms over Helena’s chest, her shoes hanging in the hook of her index- and middle fingers.

“Booberella?” Helena offered.  
“...that’s actually better,” Hunnigan commented and Helena chuckled.

“Ah, this brings back memories,” the younger woman then said, sighing nostalgically.  
“Do I even want to know?” Hunnigan smirked.

“Hah, it’s nothing tawdry, on the contrary. I used to be Deb’s designated walker. A rape-walker if you will.”  
“A rape-walker?” Hunnigan chuckled.

“You know, someone who’d walk you back to your dorm after you got wasted, someone to watch over you and to make sure you weren’t raped or anything.”  
“So... you hung out at parties and walked girls home after?”

“Carried most of the time to be precise, but yeah. Good times,” Helena said, her voice laced with a hint of sarcasm. While she didn’t mind making sure people got home safe, she didn’t appreciate the times they’d failed warning her before puking all over her.

“...yeah, I can totally see you doing that,” Hunnigan commented after a while, her tone serious but soft. Helena came across as somewhat detached at first and she certainly didn’t make a great first impression (Hunnigan would know, the first impression she’d gotten when interviewing Helena for the first time was that the young woman was arrogant and over-confident), but once you got to know her, you realized she had a good heart. Sometimes it got the better of her and led her into making stupid decisions based only on her emotional state, but the other side of the coin was that she was passionate and genuinely cared. At her best, she could be the friend everyone wanted to have.

“I’m sorry,” Hunnigan then said and Helena scoffed in surprise.  
“About what?”

“Talking crap about my sister earlier. I didn’t even stop to think that... you’ve recently lost yours.”

“It’s okay. Based on my experience, there are two types of sisters; those who never get along and those who are inseparable. Considering how opposed to spending time with your family you seemed from the get-go, I wasn’t expecting you all to be besties,” Helena chuckled.

“I’m kind of the black sheep of the family really. If it weren’t for these mandatory-type of family gatherings, I probably wouldn’t see them at all,” Hunnigan confessed.  
“That’s kinda sad.”  
“I guess,” Hunnigan muttered, slumping a bit lower, her head resting tiredly against Helena’s shoulder.

“We’re almost there, try not to pass out or puke on me,” Helena smiled.  
“As if I would waste perfectly good alcohol by throwing it up, my Irish ancestors would spin in their graves,” Hunnigan scoffed.

“Where have I heard that before? Ah, yes, from everyone about two seconds before they threw up on me.”  
“Well, I’m not everyone, so there.”

“Oh, that eases my mind,” Helena laughed, her voice dripping with gentle sarcasm as they entered the hotel’s lobby. The woman behind the counter quirked an eyebrow at them, her hand instinctively reaching for the phone to maybe call security.

“Relax, we’re guests, my friend just had a few too many and...”  
“Hellooo...” Hunnigan interjected and waved lazily at the woman.  
“...and I’m just gonna get her back to her room, so if you don’t mind... have a good night,” Helena finished her sentence and headed over to the elevator.

Once they’d made it to Hunnigan’s room, Helena was about to excuse herself and leave the other woman to undress and get to sleep when Hunnigan gripped her forearm gently.

“You don’t have to go. Stay, sit, let’s talk.”  
“Girl talk?” Helena quirked an eyebrow as a smirk tugged the corner of her mouth.

“Tsh,” Hunnigan let out a hissing breath as a laugh of sorts, “Not my strong suite, but I can try if you insist,” she chuckled. Helena shook her head and kicked off her shoes before sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed opposite to Hunnigan.

“Not my cup of tea really either. So, what do you wanna do? We could still go back to the party and try to have you disowned if you like,” Helena grinned and Hunnigan laughed, shaking her head a little.

“Does this place have room service? What am I saying, of course it does,” she then mumbled, rolled off the bed and went to make the call. Helena didn’t comment, merely sat on the bed, silently chuckling as the other woman proceeded to order french fries, marshmallows, bananas, strawberries, Baileys and whipped cream.

“Y’know, I’m not sure what you have planned for the evening, but I’m beginning to have doubts,” Helena commented finally after hearing the list of things Hunnigan had requested, “Add condoms and rope to the list and I’d bolt,” she jested.

“The fries are for my munchies, the strawberries, marshmallows and whipped cream are for snacking while we down the bottle of Baileys and the bananas are for the morning after... or mourning after,” Hunnigan explained cheerfully.

“I believe you... for now,” Helena taunted as she unbuttoned her jacket and tossed it aside, “Would you mind terribly if I release the Terminators from the death trap known as a bra?” she then inquired.

“Far be it from me to forbid you from releasing the giant-enormous-humongo-boobs,” Hunnigan laughed and went to answer the door while Helena disappeared into the bathroom. When she returned, Hunnigan had already cracked the bottle open and was busy pouring them drinks while devouring a french fry. She then handed the other glass to Helena and held her own up as she prepared to make a toast.

“Here’s to you,” she said simply.  
“Me?” Helena’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“Okay, let me elaborate. Here’s to that one friend who will pretend to be your girlfriend and attends a boring wedding with you just to spare you from having to deal with your nosey family,” Hunnigan said and clinked her glass against Helena’s.

“Yeah, you’re my best friend now, call me every five minutes,” Helena commented with a smile and mimicked Hunnigan’s gesture.  
“I already do.”  
“Outside office hours!” Helena laughed.

After their toast, they sat on the bed, snacking on the strawberries, whipped cream and fries (Helena dipped a handful of them into the whipped cream after Hunnigan dared her to, the combination of the flavors wasn’t actually as bad as she’d expected) and proceeding to empty the bottle. Hunnigan paused after a moment and studied Helena intently.

“What?” the younger woman frowned when she realized she was being scrutinized.  
“Why aren’t you drunk? You were ‘double-fisting’ the drinks at the bar just as I was,” Hunnigan narrowed her eyes.

“It’s called high-functioning alcoholism, I can be wasted and look as sober as they come,” Helena said nonchalantly, trying to shrug it off as a joke even if it wasn’t really. Having a few drinks now and then had become a habit, she’d dismissed it as just wanting a little something to help her cope with the clusterfuck her life had been recently. She knew it was a poor excuse, a downright pathetic excuse if she was honest, but she’d settled for it.

.. and if she was even more honest, she had to admit she’d been kind of doing the same even before what had happened to Deborah.

A couple of beers to take the edge off after having to deal with the issues at work (which, at the time, had been her... indiscretions at the CIA)... a couple of shots of whiskey or tequila socially as she hung out with Deborah... a bit of the hair of the dog that bit her later. A bit more of those sweet excuses.

She’d figured that as long as she was capable of picking herself off the floor the mo(u)rning after and get back to work, it wasn’t a problem. After losing Deborah she’d kind of stopped caring so much about getting up. But she’d done it regardless... and eventually tripping over empty bottles, waking up feeling bloated and sick had become the new normal for her; having coffee spiked with whiskey and drags from last night’s cigarettes for breakfast became the usual morning ritual.

Realizing how easily she could pull it off had made it all seem more normal somehow. No one was close enough to her to notice she wasn’t all right, no one had any reason to suspect anything. She hadn’t made a fool of herself by dancing topless at the HQ or making drunken passes at co-workers. No, she seemed fine; she didn’t stagger, slurr or reek of day old booze. You couldn’t tell from looking at her that she’d downed a quarter of a bottle of Jack by lunch. She didn’t fuck up... but that was probably because she’d not been out in the field, not on active duty. She’d been waiting for the call, interviewing possible assets... that was something she could pull off even if drunk.

“How are you? As in how are you really?” Hunnigan asked quietly and Helena chuckled ruefully.

“You know... you’re the first person who has asked. I’ve never been the type who wants others to feel sorry for me, but you just said the one thing I’ve been wanting to hear for ages. I haven’t had the time to just stop and let everything sink in since... Well, at all,” Helena muttered, the realization of that hitting her like a ton of bricks. She hadn’t stopped to grieve, not at any point, how could she have?

“My dad split when I was about seven, so it was just me, Deb and mom. And... I had to be the shoulder to my mom who’d pour every fucking thing wrong in her life on me like she expected me to somehow fix the fact that her parents had neglected her forty years ago, or the fact that dad left,” Helena began and Hunnigan nodded slowly.

“When she died, I had to be the shoulder to cry on for Deborah. When Deb died...” Helena began, but interrupted herself then, shaking her head a little, “No... When I had to kill her...”

“Helena...”  
“It’s true. I killed her.”

 _You should put her down if you have any sympathy for her,_ Ada’s words echoed in Helena’s mind. She shook her head.

“I did what I had to do. It wasn’t my choice, I didn’t want it to happen, but it did. Regardless... After she was gone, whose shoulder was I supposed to cry on? The agency shrink? No offense, but that woman doesn’t give two shits about her patients, she’s only there to sign papers that state the D.S.O. agents aren’t nutcases suffering from PTSD... which is a lie, by the way,” Helena muttered and emptied her glass, kind of hoping it would still have some effect, but knowing it was a waste of time, her tolerance was too high.

“I know, I’ve had the questionable privilege of having mandatory sessions with her. I’ve had broken dildos that were more useful than her,” Hunnigan commented and Helena burst out laughing, nodding vigorously in agreement. Hunnigan had worded it perfectly.

“Anyway... Now it’s just me, I don’t have anyone. Sometimes I like to have a drink or two because it helps me sleep at night. Why is that so wrong?”

“I guess it’s not if it’s just you taking a nightcap, but I get the feeling it’s more than that. Have you been turning up drunk for work?” Hunnigan frowned at her and Helena quirked an eyebrow.

“Hey, I’m a drunk, allegedly, not stupid. You’re technically my kinda-sorta superior officer, even if I were drinking on the job, do you honestly think I’d admit it to you?” Helena chuckled and the way she’d worded her response was an answer enough.

“I’m not asking as your superior officer, I’m asking as your friend.”  
“Yeah, and if I admitted to anything, you’d whip out a pamphlet for a rehab center and give me a speech about how there are options.”

“Well, that would be the pinnacle of hypocrisy considering I am wasted at the moment,” Hunnigan laughed. Having said that, she reached to put her glasses onto the nightstand and grabbed the bottle of Baileys, refilling her glass and Helena’s.

“I realize I shouldn’t encourage you, but fuck it, we’re already here,” she shrugged and carelessly tossed the now empty bottle aside. She balanced her glass between her ankles as she sat cross-legged on the bed and slipped her arms over Helena’s shoulders then, leaning closer to the younger woman. For a moment Helena was expecting to get a kiss.

“Yeah, there are options and I sincerely hope you’ll consider them, but I won’t preach. I do need you to promise me you won’t drink on the job. I won't make excuses for you, I won't cover for you. I'll shamelessly rat you out if you give me any reason to suspect you.”

“Haaah, I bet you won’t even remember this discussion in the morning,” Helena taunted and Hunnigan nodded slowly.  
“...mmmaybe, but do you really wanna risk it?”

“No... You’re right. And honestly, I haven’t been drinking on the job," Helena lied, somewhat surprised at the ease with which the false assurance rolled off of her tongue. Surprised, but not ashamed. Once upon a time she would've been.

"If I give you any reason to doubt me and you sic someone on me because of it, I won’t hold it against you,” she then added.  
“Deal.”

“But please don’t expect me to be sharing in a circle... it’s not really my style. I’ll do this by myself.”  
“Share with me then. When things get rough, call me and we’ll deal with it together. I’m not just saying it, I mean it.”

“Until then... bottoms up,” Helena said and tilted her head back, emptying her glass and Hunnigan joined her.

Helena had to applaud Hunnigan’s attempt at staying up, but decided she shouldn’t let her overdo it, she was fairly certain the other woman would feel rather horrible in the morning as it was.

“Come on, let’s get you out of that dress and to sleep,” she said and moved off the bed.  
“But we haven’t even played truth or dare yet,” Hunnigan protested weakly and Helena laughed.

“If you want to know how old I was when I lost my virginity, you can just ask,” she jested and helped Hunnigan undress before easing her onto the bed.  
“Okay, tell me,” Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow and Helena rolled her eyes.

“Fourteen. His name was Cameron, he was fifteen and yes, it was just as disappointing as you’d imagine your first time can be, but I get added awkwardness-points for the fact that it happened in his brother’s treehouse.”

“You are joking.”  
“Nope. Kinda I wish I was,” Helena chuckled and pulled the blankets over Hunnigan.

“Well, I at least had the decency to wait until the prom night and go with the typical ‘backseat of his car’-option,” Hunnigan muttered sleepily.  
“Good for you, Drunkerella,” Helena complimented with a chuckle, “Speaking of Cameron, don’t sleep on your back.”

“Do I even want to know what he has to do with lying on my back?” Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow, but turned to lie on her side regardless.

“Uh, well, it’s not as titillating as you’d expect. He, uh... turned out into a bit of a drunk himself and once upon a time he got wasted, passed out on his back and died because that, choked on his vomit.”

“That’s... grim... and a bit disgusting,” Hunnigan murmured slowly.  
“Yeah, so none of that for you, don’t lie on your back.”

“No promises, I’m used to sleeping on my back. But if it’s any consolation, I don’t feel like throwing up,” Hunnigan offered.  
“That’s it, I’m staying with you.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”  
“Really?” Helena quirked an eyebrow.

“Well, if you’re gonna pretend to be my girlfriend, the least you can do is sleep with me,” Hunnigan chuckled.

“Oh, how could I argue with that,” Helena smirked and got onto the bed, settling to lie half upright, resting against the headboard. Hunnigan moved to wrap her arm around Helena’s waist and rested her head on the younger woman’s thigh.

“Do me one more favor?” she requested sleepily, her voice cracking a little. Helena smiled at that. She was willing to bet big bucks on Hunnigan not realizing how adorable she was when she was drunk.  
“Yeah?”  
“Tickle the back of my neck.”

“Sure,” Helena chuckled and rested her hand on Hunnigan’s shoulder, reaching to tuck her fingertips into her hairline and moving them back and forth slowly, letting her fingernails rake softly over the smooth olive skin until Hunnigan fell asleep.

* * *

“I... am going... to die...” Hunnigan grumbled weakly from underneath a pile of pillows and Helena laughed softly.  
“You’re not, but you’ll probably wish you were.”

“Why am I all sticky and gooey?” Hunnigan then groaned as she turned to lie on her back, crossing her arm over her face in an attempt to hide from the excess daylight stabbing her eyes.

“You don’t remember? You had me lick whipped cream off of your boobs and drink shots from your belly button,” Helena taunted. Hunnigan moved her arm and narrowed her eyes as she glared at Helena

“Liar.”  
“Am I? How can you be sure if you don’t remember?”

“Because my belly button is too flat for you to be drinking shots from it,” Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow, pushed the blankets aside and revealed her navel which was more flat surface than an innie or an outie.

“Well, then there’s the other explanation... which is that you probably passed out on a handful of marshmallows,” Helena admitted, reaching to softly brush at the contours of Hunnigan’s abdomen, managing to disguise the urge to feel them as a gesture to wipe off the sugary residue of marshmallows from the other woman’s skin.

“That sounds more like something I’d do,” Hunnigan agreed.  
“I never realized you had abs,” Helena then commented.

“Everyone has abs... mine just happen to be visible thanks to a low body fat percent and a ton of planking exercises during slow days at the office,” Hunnigan shrugged, twitching a little underneath the tickling feeling of Helena’s fingertips brushing over her belly. She sat up slowly and blew out a breath, quirking an eyebrow at Helena when she noticed the younger woman’s hand was still resting on her stomach.

“Sorry,” Helena chuckled awkwardly and pulled away.

“It’s okay, I guess I don’t look like the typical fitness-enthusiast,” Hunnigan laughed and got up, “I’m gonna go take a shower and hope it’ll make me feel almost like a human being again so that we can check out and get going.”

“Okay, I’ll go gather my stuff and I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?”  
“Sure,” Hunnigan nodded and went.

As she stood underneath the warm cascade of water, brushing her teeth vigorously in an attempt to banish the horrible taste from her mouth, she paused for a moment when she felt the familiar nag of having forgotten something important. Frankly, considering the state she’d been in last night, she’d probably forgotten a lot of things. At least she hadn’t said or done anything embarrassing at the wedding... as far as she could recall. No, if she’d done something, her mother would be giving her an earful over the phone right now.

 _I didn’t drunkenly make a pass at Helena, so that’s not it. I didn’t do anything... then why the hell do I feel like I did?_ she frowned. Maybe it was just the regret of having gotten drunk in the first place, amplified by the hangover that made her nauseous and made her head feel like there was a metallic band squeezing it, screws drilling into her temples and across her forehead.

 _I don’t understand how people can stand waking up like this on a regular basis... Wait..._ Hunnigan paused again when she remembered what Helena had told her about her drinking.

Thinking on it, Hunnigan hated the position knowing about that put her in. While there was absolutely no way she could condone drinking on the job, she also had no desire report Helena to human resources. The young woman had enough problems as it was... Of course, coddling her and covering for her wouldn’t be doing her any favors either.

 _Well, she said she hadn’t been drinking on the job, but... I’m not sure if I believe her,_ Hunnigan thought, thinking back on Helena’s behavior. There’d been a few moments she’d wondered what was up, but overall nothing in the younger woman’s behavior really could be considered a red flag. Either it hadn’t gotten out of hand badly enough or then Helena had just gotten very good at hiding her drinking.

 _Question is, what am I going to do about it, I can’t just pull her aside every five minutes to sniff her breath, now can I?_ Hunnigan sighed, shut the water off and stepped out of the shower, not feeling much better than she had before and dreading the drive back to D.C.

 

* * *

 

“So... why no boyfriend? Or girlfriend, if you swing that way,” Helena asked bluntly as she drove. Hunnigan was slumped in the passenger’s seat, cradling a bottle of water, her feet resting on the dash. She wished the sun would stop shining at least until she’d be at home and would be able to draw the blackout curtains to block the vicious rays of light and to shut out the world of happy, healthy people enjoying said light.

“I don’t swing any way and that usually has disastrous results,” Hunnigan muttered tiredly.  
“Ah, so you’re ace,” Helena said, her tone making it a half-question.

“A what?” Hunnigan frowned, pushing her sunglasses to her forehead as she stared at Helena. The younger woman shrugged one shoulder and glanced back at her.

“Asexual,” she elaborated. Hunnigan sat up properly and took a sip of her water as she thought about it.  
“You know, all these years and I never even realized that could be it, but now that you mentioned it, it’s like... I can see the light,” she jested and drank from the bottle again.

“Congratulations, you can now put yourself into a labeled box and have everyone judge you based on what it says on the label and the stereotypical associations that come with it,” Helena smirked and Hunnigan let out a small laugh.

“Don’t be so grim.”  
“Well, it’s true, isn’t it? Say you’re a lesbian and all of a sudden you are, by association, a man-hating feminazi with a side of crazy cat lady.”

“Speaking from personal experience, are you?” Hunnigan taunted.

“I’m sorry for ranting, I just get so annoyed,” Helena grumbled, then shook her head a little, “Back to your self-discovery!” she changed the subject.

“What’s there to discuss about that?” Hunnigan chuckled.  
“Considering that the impression I got is that you never even realized you were ace, a lot!”

“The only time I’ve wondered ‘what’s wrong with me?’ has been when I’ve been pressured about it by a significant other in the past, but even then I never bothered going Googling my ‘symptoms’, that’s how little I care about it. _Res ipsa loquitur,”_ Hunnigan shrugged.

“Must’ve been a pain in the ass, though.”

“Well, to answer your original question, I’m single because relationships tend to get overly complicated when the other person expects me to go beyond kissing and cuddling even after I’ve made it perfectly clear that it wouldn’t happen. Knowing I have a label for it doesn’t change it or make it easier for others to understand, I’m fairly sure I’d still come across as a tease or like I’m leading the other person on, and who needs the guilt tripping that comes with that? I don’t,” Hunnigan muttered, slumping back down after having emptied her water bottle, wishing she’d brought another.

“You’d need a friend without benefits.”

“Hah, exactly. How’s that for an intro on a dating site?” Hunnigan chuckled.

 

***


	4. Afterlife

Hunnigan closed the door behind Helena. The younger woman stood there, her eyebrows slightly elevated in a silent question wondering why she’d been summoned to Hunnigan’s office. The other woman didn’t answer the question, instead she snatched the tall coffee cup from Helena and took a sip of the hot beverage.

“If you wanted coffee, you could’ve just asked and I would’ve brought you some,” Helena commented.  
“Would you have spiked mine with whiskey too?” Hunnigan growled and tossed the cardboard mug and its contents into the trash agitatedly.

“It’s bourbon actually.”  
“Do you hear yourself!”

“Well, what do you want me to say? Huh? That I’m sorry? That I have a problem? What?” Helena demanded.  
“You do have a problem!”

“You’re the one making it a problem, I’m fine!”

“Yeah, when you’re sitting around waiting to get the call or when you’re abusing the napping cot, you’re fine. But what happens when you’re deployed after you’ve spent the day drinking? Do you understand how severe the consequences could be? Someone could literally die!”

“Someone already has!” Helena spat furiously and slumped into the chair opposite from Hunnigan’s desk.

“What are you talking about?” Hunnigan breathed, circled around Helena and leaned against the edge of her desk. Helena shook her head and scoffed.

“What... are you... talking about!” Hunnigan repeated, put her hands onto Helena’s cheeks and forced her to look up.

“Deborah! I’m talking about Deborah!” Helena snapped and nudged herself free from Hunnigan’s grip. The other woman frowned, unsure what to say. Helena sighed.

“The night she was taken, she was staying over at my place. She tried calling me. I didn’t hear the phone, I was at a bar, drunk off my ass, shooting pool with some strangers. Got home, went to sleep, didn’t even realize she’d been taken until I tried calling her and realized she’d left me a voice mail telling me she needed me to come home because it sounded like someone was trying to break in. If you had to live with the guilt of all the shit I’ve done, wouldn’t you drink?” Helena scoffed.

“This isn’t the right way to deal with that guilt. You’re ruining your life. Doesn’t that mean anything to you, don’t you even care?”

“What do you want from me, Hunnigan? I don’t have a problem, I could quit drinking if I wanted to, but I don’t want to. I like being drunk. There, it’s been said, now what?”  
“Now I report you, you lose your job, your benefits, your pension, and you will probably never work in this field again considering your past indiscretions and now this.”

“Okay,” Helena nodded and Hunnigan frowned. No request to cover for her, no pleas for another chance. Just calm acceptance. Helena really didn’t care.

“I can authorize three days of sick leave before you’ll need a note from the doctor to prove you’re really too sick to work. Go home, Helena. If anyone asks, you’ve got food poisoning.”  
“What?”

“Make no mistake, this is the first, the last and definitely the only one time I will cover for you. After this, you’re on your own. Go home... and keep your phone with you,” Hunnigan repeated her order and went to sit.  
“Why, so you can keep track of me?”

“Yes,” Hunnigan admitted openly and began typing out the bit of paperwork she’d need to fill out for Helena’s sick leave. The younger woman inhaled deeply, obviously wanting to say something, but the sharp glare Hunnigan gave her over her glasses shut her up. Instead, she stood up slowly and exited the office.

 

* * *

 

Hunnigan would’ve wanted to be surprised when she checked up on Helena’s location and discovered she was at a bar. But she wasn’t surprised at all, she’d been expecting as much. The fact that Helena was so adamant and defiant about it all had made it easy to predict. Even if she hadn’t planned on going to a bar to get wasted prior to having her chat with Hunnigan, she’d definitely changed her plans afterward. Just to spite the older woman. Deep down, she could be a childish brat, intentionally getting into trouble just to get another’s attention.

_Well, if it’s my attention you wanted, you got it,_ Hunnigan sighed internally as she got out of the car and crossed the street, heading toward the bar where Helena (or her phone at least) was.

It took a moment for Hunnigan’s eyes to adjust as she shifted from the bright summer evening light to the dimly lit bar. She looked around and finally located Helena, leaning to the pool table as she aligned her shot, a cigarette hanging in the corner of her mouth, ash falling from it to her chest. She didn’t seem to notice, or care.

“I told you to go home,” Hunnigan said after crossing the bar over to her.  
“Who are you, my mother?” Helena retorted.

“If that’s how you want to play it, fine,” Hunnigan growled, reaching to pinch Helena’s ear between her thumb and index finger.  
“Jesus fucking Christ!” the younger woman yelped when Hunnigan proceeded to drag her out of the bar by her ear, her stumbling accompanied by amused cheers and whistles from the other patrons.

“That really hurts!” Helena complained and tried to wriggle free, but Hunnigan’s grip was like a vice.  
“Get in,” Hunnigan ordered impatiently once they’d crossed the street and were by her car.

“Make me,” Helena defied childishly.  
“Are you fucking serious!” Hunnigan spat.

“I don’t want to go home, there’s no beer at home!”  
“Get in the God damn car now!”

“All right, all right, Jesus! No reason to get all excited!” Helena scoffed and reluctantly slumped into the seat. Hunnigan slammed the door shut and circled over to the driver’s side.

“I’m sorry,” Helena grumbled.  
“No, you’re not,” Hunnigan shook her head.

“I would want to be. Does that help?”  
“Shut up. Just... be quiet,” Hunnigan muttered. Helena held her hands up in a surrendering gesture for a moment before moving to lean her elbow against the door, cradling her head in her palm. She nodded off for a few minutes and snapped awake when Hunnigan opened the door and reached to catch Helena as she was about to tumble onto the curb from the seat.

“This isn’t home. Please don’t tell me you’re dumping me at some rehab center, because I don’t feel like running right now, but I would make a run for it,” Helena groaned as Hunnigan helped her stand up straight.

“It’s my house, but thanks for thinking it could pass for a rehab center,” Hunnigan commented as they walked across the driveway.

“Why am I here?”

“Because I’m doing the one thing I know I shouldn’t be doing, but I feel like I owe you a chance to genuinely make an effort before I throw you to the wolves,” Hunnigan muttered, unlocked the front door and got in, her arm around Helena’s waist, her shoulder underneath Helena’s arm, helping her in as well.

“So what’s your plan, lock me in your closet ‘til I’m sober?” Helena laughed.  
“If that’s what it’ll take,” Hunnigan shrugged.

“I know you’re only trying to help me, but you can’t help me. I don’t even want help!”  
“You should!”

“Who are you to decide that?” Helena hissed, pulled herself away from Hunnigan’s grip and stood up straight, swaying a little.  
“The only one who knows you have a problem and who seems to care. You obviously don’t care about what happens to you, but I don’t want to see you waste everything just because you’ve hit a rough patch.”

“Ah, so I’m like some kind of charity work.”

“No, you’re my friend and I care about you, and I’m gonna help you, whether you like it or not,” Hunnigan said, realizing it would take a lot of effort to help someone who insisted they didn’t need it. She only hoped Helena would eventually agree and just accept it. If it would happen, it certainly wasn’t gonna happen today.

 

* * *

 

Helena sat in the bathtub, hugging her knees to her chest. She was contemplating on lying down and inhaling deeply, death by drowning herself in the tub felt like the dignified way to go when considering her other option was to eventually get up and face Hunnigan.

It took a bit of digging, but she finally remembered what she’d done that had made Hunnigan suspicious of the contents of Helena’s coffee mug in the first place. It had seemed like a funny little prank at the time... of course, in hindsight, none of her drunken misadventures had seemed like a bad idea at the time. The great thing about excessive drinking was that all the red flags just whooshed by, blurry and practically unnoticed... until you did something like walked up to your intelligence liaison while she’s in the middle of a video call to her teenaged little brother, wishing him happy seventeenth birthday... and then you drunkenly decide to flash your cleavage to the boy (well, really, she’d only leaned over Hunnigan’s shoulder to offer a generous view, but the intention was clear) while slurring “happy birthday, mini-Hunnigan”.

_I need a... no, I don’t “need” a drink, I_ want _a drink. Pretty big difference,_ Helena sighed. Excuses, manipulating language to make her desires sound harmless when the message behind the prettier words was just the same. Endless insincere apologies, broken promises and empty words. She’d gotten so good at those that she wasn’t sure if she knew how to do it any other way anymore.

_I’m sorry, I was drunk, I didn’t mean it, it won’t happen again._

But it did, repeatedly. She’d gotten away with it because no one had noticed, no one had stayed close enough long enough to notice. Until Hunnigan. Funny thing was, she probably wouldn’t know any better either had Helena not drunkenly offered to be her date in the first place... and then drunkenly confessed to liking being drunk.

“Helena? Can I come in?” Hunnigan knocked on the door.  
“Uh, yeah, sure,” the younger woman responded and Hunnigan pushed the door open slowly.

“How are you feeling?” she inquired as she moved to sit on the edge of the tub.  
“Mortified. And I know you won’t believe me, but I am sorry.”

“Oh, I believe you’re sorry, but I don’t think you’re apologizing for what you think you are. You’re not sorry about the way you’ve behaved or about how it’s inconvenienced those around you. You’re sorry that I’m not letting you get away with it,” Hunnigan shrugged.

“Fair enough,” Helena murmured and leaned to rest her forehead against her knees, “Is this the part where you stage an intervention, sit me in the middle of friends and colleagues and have them tell me what a fucking failure I am?” she grumbled then. Hunnigan let out a soft amused scoff and reached to tuck a wet lock of hair behind Helena’s ear.

“I think we’ve established traditional approaches don’t work with you. Question is, what will?”

Helena didn’t comment, she had no answers either. She was far from having a solution to her problem. She was barely willing to admit she had a problem. She knew she wasn’t all right, she’d always known, but why did that have to be a problem? She hadn’t hurt anyone.

_No? Not even Deborah? Maybe if you hadn’t been too busy trying desperately to reach a feeling of false happiness by getting wasted, you could’ve been there to stop her from being taken. Or, maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference... but now we’ll never know, will we?_

“...help me. Please,” she whimpered, her voice almost inaudible and her words disappearing into the quiet sobs that took over. She reached to wrap her arms around Hunnigan’s waist and hid her face into her lap, her tears and the water dripping from her hair staining Hunnigan’s jeans. She didn’t seem to mind.

“I will,” Hunnigan said softly and leaned into an awkward half-hug, still sitting on the edge of the tub as Helena held onto her.

“I, uh... didn’t traumatize Eric too badly, did I? Being branded a sex offender would be the last thing I need on my record,” Helena grumbled then.

“Are you kidding? He’s probably masturbating to a screenshot of your boobs as we speak.”  
“...that doesn’t make me feel better.”

“It wasn’t meant to, simply stating I doubt he has any interest in pressing charges for sexual assault,” Hunnigan said reasonably and sat up straight slowly before proceeding to stand up.

“Listen... I’m going to try and juggle the schedules around a bit... Your summer vacation’s not supposed to be until the end of next month, but I’ll see if I can get someone to switch with yours so that you can take some time off now,” she then said and Helena finally turned to face her.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to cover for me.”  
“I am not... after this. I’m going to try and ensure you get a genuine chance to make an effort and fix this before it gets worse. After this, you’re on your own.”

“...thank you.”  
“I don’t need thanks, just don’t waste this. Now... get dressed and let’s get you something to eat, okay?”  
“Okay,” Helena nodded weakly.

***

 


	5. ...but at least the ceiling's very pretty

After sweet-talking Leon into switching his vacation with Helena’s (she’d expected she’d need to sell her soul to get him to agree, but he’d settled insiting she names her first-born after him in return... a great bargain for Hunnigan who had no intention of having kids), Hunnigan went upstairs. She paused by the guest room and knocked softly. There was no answer and she knocked again before proceeding to slowly push the door open. She was half expecting to find a window open and Helena long gone, but was happily surprised to discover the younger woman asleep on the bed. She was lying on her belly with her arms tucked underneath her chest, her head resting on the pillow at an angle that would definitely guarantee a sore neck in the morning.

“Hunnigan?” Helena mumbled quietly just as Hunnigan was about to turn and leave.

“Yeah?” she asked, swiveling back around.

“Thanks for taking care of me.”

“Sure. Get some sleep,” Hunnigan whispered, closed the door and headed to the bedroom.

A part of her was convinced she was making a huge mistake trusting Helena. The younger woman had asked her for help, but at the same time... she could easily change her mind the next day. Considering she’d insisted she didn’t even need help only hours before asking for it, it was a very real possibility. In the morning she could announce she was fine or that she preferred stumbling through her life as a high-functioning alcoholic, long beyond the point of “I’m drinking because it’s fun” and on her way to the world of “I’m scared that if I stop drinking the accumulative hangover will kill me”. She wouldn’t be the first or the last person running for the nearest bottle just for a quick fix once the withdrawals kicked in.

 _The question is, how am I going to talk her out of it?_ Hunnigan sighed and undressed before getting into bed. She had no idea, but she had to try. Helena was... well, too damn young and too damn good to be throwing her life away like that, and for what? Hunnigan understood the guilt the younger woman had to be carrying around, but destroying her life wouldn’t magically erase any past mistakes, it wasn’t the way to atone. She just had no idea how to get Helena to see that. It would take a lot more than girl talk and pillow fights.

 

* * *

 

Helena was tempted to get up and shoot the damn woodpecker smashing his beak into the telephone pole in a series of surprisingly loud staccatos he repeated every five seconds. Of course, closing the window would’ve been a more peaceful solution, but like with shooting, it would’ve required her to get out of bed. She had no desire to do so, not even to murder the annoying bird.

What she really would’ve wanted to do was to perform her usual morning ritual. Get up, have a drink, have a smoke, shower, brush her teeth, grab some eyedrops to get rid of the redness, put on a little make up, store a mint or some gum in her cheek and head out to face the brave new day... constantly fearing someone would notice and exclaim “Hey, you’re a drunk”. No one had, and why would they have, she’d learned to compensate to hide her drinking long ago. Contrary to what Hunnigan seemed to think, she wasn’t likely to mess up at work, if anything she was more likely to be thorough to the point of perfectionism just so that she could rest assured no one had absolutely any reason to doubt her.

Well, too late now. Her perfectly coordinated plays depicting the escapades of a perfectly normal 24 year old government agent had been revealed to be nothing but a front. Hunnigan had been the Toto to Helena’s wizard, torn down the curtain and exposed her for what she truly was, humbug. Helena’s life so far had been nothing but a first act which showed great promise, but the secret was that the author had no idea how to continue the story. There was no second act. No ending. And now everyone around her were reduced to being just a group of disappointed people who’d had such great expectations based on the first act.

_I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’ll fix it._

Empty apologies accompanied by even emptier promises. Stupid little lies, inconsequential really, but at the same time providing her the false feeling of everything being okay. The cab driver didn’t need to know that “she was on her way to celebrate with some friends”, but she’d said it anyway when the truth was she’d been drinking alone and would continue to do that at her destination. He didn’t care, he didn’t know, but thinking that she’d managed to convince him made her feel like less of a drunk.

Same applied to telling the bartender she’d just popped in to have a pint while waiting for the pot roast to cook in the oven; the pot roast she hadn’t bought, prepared or left to cook, in fact at that point she hadn’t eaten more than a sandwich in the past three days, but as long as she managed to convince the bartender that she was the kind of a woman who had a God damn roast in the oven like some normal human being might have, she’d pass for just that, a normal human being.

The most brilliant part was that the people she’d tell these ridiculous little lies couldn’t have cared less. They didn’t even know her, but regardless, she’d needed to convince them.

_Ra-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta!_

“Fucking woodpecker, rattle that fucking thing one more fucking time and I’ll get my fucking gun and I’ll fucking..!” Helena ranted, threw the blanket aside and stood up furiously, slamming the window shut and left the rest of her threat unsaid when she realized Hunnigan stood at the door with her arms crossed over her abdomen, her eyebrow quirked. They stood in awkward silence for a long moment. Helena felt like she should’ve explained, but she didn’t know how.

“Breakfast?” Hunnigan finally broke the silence.

_I don’t want to eat, I want to drink, but I can’t because you brought me here, and I can’t leave. I mean, I could, but I can’t. Because you were the first person who asked me if I was all right. Because you noticed I wasn’t. Because you’re the only one who cares, and because of all that, I can’t just leave. I owe you. And I don’t think I could handle the look of disappointment on your face if I did leave._

Helena inhaled deeply to respond out loud, but Hunnigan had already disappeared from the door. Sighing, Helena followed her downstairs and into the kitchen.

“I convinced Leon to switch vacations with you, so starting next Monday, you’re off-duty. Should give you some time to detox,” Hunnigan began as she slid a bowl across the table to Helena.

“Oatmeal? Are you trying to make me puke?”

“You’ll get what you’re given and you’ll like it,” Hunnigan smirked and sat down, grabbed a spoonful of strawberry jam and mixed it into her oatmeal.

“Okay, now I’m convinced you’re trying to make me puke,” Helena commented as she looked from between her fingers at the red swirls spreading in the gooey substance.

“I’m fairly certain you’d benefit from a little tough love,” Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow and proceeded to gross Helena out further by adding a splash of milk into the mixture and stirring it, fully aware of the more or less disturbing appearance of the dish, not to mention the nauseating moist sound it made when she stirred it.

“Why do you hate me?” Helena grumbled, slumping against the table, her forehead impacting on it hard enough for make the utencils on the table clink a little.  
“I don’t hate you. Haven’t you heard the saying ‘you hurt the ones you love’?”  
“Ah, so you luuurve me.”

“Just enough to warrant torturing you and emotionally scarring you for life,” Hunnigan jested. Helena sat up straight and dipped her spoon into the oatmeal, reluctantly tasting it. Frankly, it wasn’t the taste that bothered her the most, it was the texture. If God had wanted her to eat slimy and gooey foods, He wouldn’t have made her want to gag every time she tried.

“So, what’s your plan exactly, talk about boys, roast marshmallows on a candle, tie me down if I try to escape?” Helena quirked an eyebrow.

“I have no plan. I could sit here reciting you horror stories I’ve read off the Internet, I could threaten you or give you speech about how you’re ruining your life and breaking my heart by doing so, but what would be the point? As someone who’s spent a lot of time listening to people try to guilt me into doing things I didn’t want to, I know what it’s like and I have no desire to put you through that.”

“So if I ran out, you wouldn’t chase me? Well, there goes my soap opera-style dramatic exit,” Helena muttered and Hunnigan chuckled.

“Locking you in or chasing after you when you clearly have no desire to get better wouldn’t help. You need to stop because you want to, not because I told you to. You know what the consequences are, and if you still insist that you don’t care, I can’t force you to care,” Hunnigan shrugged.

“So what are you doing? ‘Cuz dragging me out from a bar by the ear felt like forcing me,” Helena quirked an eyebrow.

“Okay, that was maybe a bit dramatic, but consider that your intervention. As for what am I doing... I don’t know. The last time I tried helping someone with a drinking problem didn’t really end all that well.”

“And here I thought I was the first you’ve dragged out of a bar by the ear,” Helena pouted and Hunnigan chuckled a little shaking her head.

“It was back in college, I knew this girl, Mandy. Or, well, ‘knew’ might be a grandiose term for it, I knew who she was, she kept calling me Laura because for some reason Ingrid translated into Ingalls for her, so... I became Laura Ingalls,” Hunnigan said and finished her breakfast before getting up to make coffee.

“Mandy was smart, like... genius-smart, but she decided she preferred partying over studying. One time I found her passed out in a pool of vomit and I couldn’t wake her up so I called an ambulance. So, the day after, instead of ‘hey thanks for saving me from alcohol poisoning’, she tore me a new one because it was _my_ fault that she’d ended up getting an ambulance ride to the hospital and staying overnight, which was expensive,” Hunnigan finished her story, leaning against the counter as the coffee maker gurgled.

“What happened to her?” Helena inquired.

“I think she’s an accountant or something. Sorry, no dramatic and shocking ‘her life was ruined because of alcoholism’-ending here. But after the verbal beating she gave me as thanks for helping her, I’ve kinda kept my nose out of other people’s business. Until recently anyway,” Hunnigan smirked and poured herself coffee. She held the mug up to silently ask if Helena wanted some. The younger woman shook her head. She’d eaten half a spoon of the oatmeal (which was now a cold, thick mess in the bowl, having lost what little appeal it had had before) and didn’t think drinking coffee to her practically empty stomach would do anything to help her nausea.

“...anyway, the truth is, I don’t know what I’m doing. Frankly, you’d probably be better off sharing in a circle than-”

“Not a fucking chance.”

“I knew you’d say that. I can’t force you to go, I can’t make you care, and I definitely don’t have fancy speeches that would magically change your world view. So, if you’re gonna white knuckle it, I’m gonna do the only thing I can; I’ll be here if you want to talk or hang out or... anything. And that’s all there is to that, do with it what you will,” Hunnigan shrugged. She glanced at her watch and finished her coffee, muttering that she had to get going or she’d be late. She changed into her suit hastily and shouldered her bag as she made her way back downstairs.

“As I said, I can’t force you to do anything, but... if you want to, you’re welcome to stay. Or call me every five minutes.”

“Heh, yeah, I’ll... try not to abuse it,” Helena smirked.  
“I should go. But you know where to reach me if you need to.”

“Yeah. And Hunnigan... for what it’s worth... I do care.”

 

* * *

 


	6. (maybe tomorrow is) A better day

_Oh, don’t be such a drama queen, all it takes it a bit of willpower_.

What an idiotic thing to say to a person. Straight from the mouths of those who had no idea just how much it actually took. Yes, deep down and at the very basic level, it was indeed a matter of willpower. But there were so many other little things that made a huge difference, made it harder.

Helena couldn’t will herself to stop feeling anxious when her body insisted something was wrong with because it was no longer being supplied a steady stream of a chemical it was used to receiving. She couldn’t will herself to fall asleep peacefully, she couldn’t will away the nightmares which ranged from reliving the horrors of Tall Oaks and China in her sleep to a bad dream in which she witnessed herself down a bottle of gin. She _could_ will herself to stay away from the booze, but it wasn’t anywhere near as easy as saying “it’s just a matter of willpower” made it seem.

 _Champagne and marshmallows,_ she thought after snapping awake almost immediately after having finally managed to drift off to sleep. What a weird dream. Weird, short and very vivid.

She sat up and pushed the blankets aside. She’d been sweating so much the bed was practically dripping. She’d never realized how stinky detoxing would be, but then again, it made sense. You can’t rise from a pile of crap and expect to come out smelling of roses... the figurative pile of crap being her body which she’d intentionally poisoned to the point of it now retaliating by pushing all that out through every channel it could, all the way from her bodily fluids to giving her breath a less than flattering stank despite her continued efforts to wash it off.

Helena got up and quietly exited the guest room. She needed to do something, she needed to distract herself. It sure as hell didn’t seem that she’d be getting any sleep. She paused by Hunnigan’s door. It was open, but the lights were off. Helena could easily make out her figure on the bed, illuminated by the deep blue of the night and the waning crescent moon sneaking light into the room. Hunnigan lay on her stomach, her arms around a pillow that was tucked underneath her chin, her hair open and cascading over her shoulder. She was... beautiful, but at the same time, she seemed somehow... lonely.

Helena continued downstairs, sat back on the couch and turned the light on. She reached to grab the sketchbook she’d begun using mostly as a diary.

 _Saturday, August 3 rd 2013\. Day 3 sober. Fucking horray for me. Sarcasm,_ she wrote down on the otherwise empty page. She drummed her fingers on the paper for a while as she leaned back and balanced the sketchbook on her knee.

She hadn’t drawn anything other than crude doodles for the longest time. Once upon a time she was able to produce over a hundred quick sketches in an hour, capturing the model’s gesture within seconds.

“Mister Stan would be so disappointed if he knew I stopped practicing. Well... if he were alive and knew,” Helena muttered, taking a moment to remember fondly the art teacher from high school. Thanks to his soft slaps on her wrists, she’d never drawn another “hairy line” since he’d told her to condition herself to use her wrist only for detailing and have the broad strokes emanate from the shoulder.

“He would probably also want to slap me for using a ballpoint pen,” Helena chuckled to herself as she began drawing the outline. This would certainly give her something to do in lieu of being able to sleep, especially if she’d manage to keep focused long enough to finish the drawing and venture into the time-consuming land of shading.

 _Doing that with a ballpoint pen will surely be fun,_ she mused with a bit of sarcasm. She’d never had the patience for shading properly with a ballpoint pen. She doubted she’d have it now either, but finding out beat sitting here, doing nothing.

 

* * *

 

For a while Hunnigan thought Helena had left. She sighed audibly in relief when she found the younger woman asleep on the couch, her sketchbook lying face down on the floor after having slipped from her grip as she’d fallen asleep. Hunnigan picked it up and put in on the coffee table before reaching to pull the pen from between Helena’s fingers. She’d almost got it when Helena stirred and opened her eyes. She looked confused for a while, then just tired.

“Hey. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”  
“It’s okay,” Helena dismissed and sat up slowly, ran a hand over her face and blinked slowly a couple of times in an attempt to get her eyes to stop from stinging.

“Were you up all night drawing?” Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow as Helena yawned and nodded.  
“Well, you know how inspiration is, when it hits, it hits. Plus, I couldn’t sleep,” the younger woman shrugged.

“Can I see what you drew?” Hunnigan inquired curiously.  
“Sure,” Helena chuckled and opened the sketchbook. She browsed to the latest page and handed it over to Hunnigan.

“Ignore that,” she then added, dismissing her sarcastic note about having been sober for a whopping three days.  
“Hey, it’s a start,” Hunnigan poked Helena’s side softly with her elbow as she accepted the book when Helena passed it to her. She’d seen Helena’s doodles before, usually sketched onto the empty sides of old reports Helena had assumed no one would collect back.

“The shading’s kinda shitty, I’m too impatient to do it properly, but I still got it, I think,” Helena smirked.  
“This is great, I had no idea you were this good,” Hunnigan marveled as she studied the drawing of a woman lying on her stomach, resting her chin on the pillow she had her arms around.

“I had a very compelling and inspiring model,” Helena grinned.  
“Who is she?”Hunnigan asked as she gave the sketchbook back.

“Well, I guess I’m not quite as good as I thought I was if the model doesn’t even recognize herself,” Helena laughed a little.

“That’s me? I’m not that good looking.”  
“You are to me.”

“Are you flirting with me?” Hunnigan taunted, quirking an eyebrow.  
“Is it working?” Helena grinned.

“No.”

“Then I am not,” she denied and laughed, “And before you get any ideas, no, I wasn’t creepily staring at you for hours while you slept, I was coming downstairs and your door was open which was when I saw you, so this is from memory... and if that bothers you then may this be a lesson to you; shut the fucking door in the future,” she then explained and Hunnigan chuckled.

“I actually had a boyfriend once who stared at me while I slept,” she shared, got up and headed to the kitchen to grab something to eat.  
“See, if someone did that to me, they’d get hurt. Well, provided I’d become aware of it happening, of course.”

“Oh, as creepy as that was, it pales in comparison to the woman who was convinced that if I’d agree to sleep with her just once, I’d suddenly go from ‘I don’t like sex’ to ‘Oh, my God, let’s do it again’.”

“Sounds like the equivalent of the types of guys who walked up to me and proclaimed that if I just tried their magic cock on for a size, I’d never go back to women again,” Helena rolled her eyes and Hunnigan chuckled, nodding in agreement as she poured milk over her cereal.

“Exactly, really annoying. Oh, you want something to eat?”  
“No, I’m good. And as annoying as that is, I don’t see how it’s creepier than the staring dude,” Helena frowned.

“That’s because I didn’t get to the creepy-fun part of the story yet,” Hunnigan said, returned to the living room and took a seat next to Helena.  
“Are you sure you don’t want something to eat?” she frowned then.

“What is it with your compulsive need to feed me?” Helena rolled her eyes, dismissed the offer for food again and urged Hunnigan to get on with the story.  
“All right, all right,” Hunnigan gave in, took a moment to chew and swallow before continuing, “So, since she couldn’t talk me into it, she figured she’d go with the ‘act first, ask later’-approach. Instead of staring at me while I sleep, she decided to... how should I put it... touch me inappropriately while I slept.”

“Seriously? That is such a dick move that it’s like... a bag of dicks wrapped in a bigger bag of dicks that’s making a... dick move...” Helena trailed off and sighed, “Okay, this isn’t going where I intended it to, what I’m saying is that I greatly disapprove of such actions,” she then said in exaggerated eloquence.

“As did I,” Hunnigan nodded.  
“I hope you pressed charges.”

“No, I agreed not to... in exchange for her agreeing not to have me charged for assault after I punched her in the face and accidentally broke her nose,” Hunnigan said innocently and Helena did a double-take, paused to stare for a moment before finally tapping her fingertips against her palm to give a tiny applause.

“I'm fairly certain what you did would've been considered self-defense," Helena commented then.  
"Probably, but I think I made my point and that was enough for me. So, after that I decided it’s not worth the trouble and have been single ever since. No regrets,” Hunnigan smiled.

“And you don’t even have a cat! That should count for some extra bonus points,” Helena teased and Hunnigan laughed.

“Probably,” she nodded and finished her breakfast before turning her attention back to Helena, “So, how are you feeling? Any better?”  
“I am. Well, all things considered anyway,” the younger woman shrugged.

Physically, she was feeling almost normal if she was honest. It was the nightmares she couldn’t handle. And if it wasn’t the nightmares, it was the insomnia... or anxiety... and the occasional urge to murder anyone who annoyed her in the slightest. Just yesterday someone had accidentally poked her back with a shopping cart while standing in line at the store and she’d wanted to turn around and kick his teeth in for that.

“...and I should probably get out of your hair before I completely wear out my welcome,” Helena then mumbled.  
“Nonsense, I’m enjoying having you around, it’s nice to have someone to talk to,” Hunnigan dismissed.

“Well, yeah, but still, I should... get used to the idea of being sober, at home, by myself. I can’t stay here and lean on you forever, I gotta do this by myself,” Helena said determinedly.  
“I understand.”

“But, uh... there is one thing you could do for me if you have the time?”  
“I do, what is it?”

“...would you come over and take my stash away from me? I don’t quite trust myself to do that myself,” Helena requested awkwardly and Hunnigan nodded.

“Sure,” she smiled and reached to cup Helena’s cheek with her hand softly, “It’s gonna get better, this is just the worst phase,” she then encouraged, moved her hand to pat Helena’s knee in a silent “let’s get going” and got up.

 

***


	7. You (don't) need me to cut you free

* * *

_“And you took your machete, and you sliced through the vines that wrapped around me. And you said ‘I don’t know what I’m doing, so I’ll just keep on cutting, it’s worth a little blood to get your arms free.’”_

_-Amanda Palmer, “Machete”_

* * *

 

 

Helena opened her sketchbook and thumbed the pages until she got to the one she’d used for keeping track of her sober days. She drew a tenth line. Ten days wasn’t a long time, during the past couple of years she’d been drinking excessively, she’d had a few “nose whitening”-weeks such as this. Only this time she decided she wouldn’t leave it at that. While she didn’t think ten days was exactly impressive, she did admit to feeling kind of proud for having managed to hit double digits.

Helena turned the page to glance at the drawing of Hunnigan. She was contemplating on finishing it by putting more effort into the shading, but decided not to. Instead, she went to dig out her pencils after having her mind set on drawing it again, but this time with the medium she much preferred and was more familiar with, namely pencil.

She had to admit she felt kind of excited upon realizing she genuinely felt like doing something creative. For the longest time her muse had been the bottle and quite frankly, the bottle sucked at that job. Certainly gave her ideas, but also convinced her she’d remember them all later, she could just sit back and relax instead of getting to work. So she’d sat back and eventually stopped bothering to even try getting started because she’d slipped from being too lazy to not feeling like doing it at all. What had been fun had slowly twisted into a chore of sorts, made it to the top ten of “things I don’t want to do unless I absolutely have to” among with dusting and doing the dishes.

Helena had been drawing for a while when there was a knock on the door. She turned the music off and went to answer the door, happily surprised to see Hunnigan there.

“Hey, what’s up?” she asked.  
“Sorry I’m just showing up like this, it’s just... I tried calling and you didn’t answer, so I was... worried,” Hunnigan explained slowly, a bit embarrassed at having to admit she didn’t quite trust Helena just yet.

“So you came to make a house inspection? Just as well, you did actually forget to take away my cough syrup,” Helena smirked.  
“I’m sorry, I know how this comes across, but it’s not how I...”

“Relax,” Helena laughed softly, moving aside from the door, silently inviting Hunnigan in, “I was just teasing you. I appreciate that you worry and check up on me, and given that I have broken a promise or two here and there, I think you have the right to be a bit suspicious. Oh, and for the record, I would never actually drink cough syrup,” she chuckled.

Helena closed the door and gestured toward the living room and Hunnigan moved through the foyer.

“I was listening to music and drawing, I couldn’t hear the phone and lost track of time. See?” Helena then smiled and showed Hunnigan the side of her palm what was covered in gray smudges from the pencil.  
“I apologize for doubting you, but it really was more concern than suspicion.”

“It’s okay, really,” Helena assured.  
“Can I see what you drew?” Hunnigan then inquired.

“I was actually redrawing the picture I did of you before, I think it’s better in pencil. It’s not quite done yet, but still,” Helena shrugged and handed Hunnigan the book.  
“It’s... you’re really good.”

“Naw, it’s just lines on a paper.”  
“If it were that simple, everyone would know how to do it.”

“Well, with enough practice...”  
“Helena, just accept the compliment. Hell, you even managed to make me look good,” Hunnigan smirked.

 _I didn’t “make” you look like anything, I just drew what I saw, this is how I see you, you_ are _beautiful,_ Helena thought but swallowed the words before they managed to escape her lips.

“What’s with the self-derogatory comments? You don’t seem like the type who suffers from low self-esteem,” she said out loud instead.

“Oh, I don’t have issues with that, it’s just a habit I developed growing up and never really managed to shake off, I guess. If I point out my flaws myself and make a joke of them, the bullies aren’t left with a lot of ammo,” Hunnigan shrugged.

“You were bullied?”

“I was the fat kid with thick glasses and braces, I was every bully’s wet dream. Well, until I developed an immunity to their comments anyway,” Hunnigan chuckled.

“You do realize that you’re now practically obligated to show me a picture from those times, right?” Helena teased, her eyebrow quirking.  
“I will not!” Hunnigan exclaimed.

“Oh, come on! I bet your mom would love showing those to me. I mean, wasn’t she intent on seeing you get married as soon as possible? Showing me your embarrassing childhood photos would be a sign of taking our relationship to the next level,” Helena grinned, letting her voice drop to a husky murmur.

“And what level would that be exactly?” Hunnigan chuckled.  
“The level that comes after ‘We assembled a piece of Ikea-furniture together and didn’t kill each other with the left-over parts’, but before the moving van.”

“Oh, wow, I never knew you were _that_ serious about me,” Hunnigan jested.  
“I’m very passionate about our fake-relationship,” Helena whispered with a grin and let her arms wrap around Hunnigan’s waist, pulling the other woman to herself.

“If only daddy could see how good you are to me, he wouldn’t object,” Hunnigan sighed dramatically, deciding to play along.  
“Indeed, if he knew how the sparks flew when we first met, he’d understand everything,” Helena said.

“Tell me again how we met, you tell it so well,” Hunnigan requested, curious to see what Helena would come up with.

“Well, the thing about soul mates is that you usually run into them accidentally when you’re not even looking, and that’s how it was with us too. I’ll never forget the feeling of something in the universe just shifting and falling into place when I walked into what I thought was a narcotics anonymous-meeting,” Helena began and Hunnigan chuckled at the opening act.

“Turned out it was actually sex addicts anonymous, and there you were, sharing your story about how you’d gone through about thirty people in one day, and I just knew I had to have you,” Helena continued the story and Hunnigan leaned back, laughing heartily.

“Of course, no relationship is perfect, we have our problems too. You insist eating oatmeal for breakfast and sometimes I need to really work hard to be able to bring myself to kiss you after you’ve put that foul death-paste in your mouth, but in the end, love conquers all, even oatmeal,” Helena continued and leaned toward Hunnigan’s exposed neck. She was tempted to just nuzzle into it, but didn’t think that would be appropriate, so instead she kept a respectful distance and inhaled deeply.

“...annnd you smell of oranges, my favorite fruit,” she said, standing up straight again and slowly letting her arms unwrap from around Hunnigan.

“Is it really?” Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow and Helena chuckled.  
“No, but I’m willing to lie about it for the story’s sake,” she said.

“What a beautiful, heart-warming story we have. Hollywood should be making romantic comedies about us,” Hunnigan jested then remembering Helena having mentioned hating the genre. She then took a step back from the half-hug she’d been in and shrugged one shoulder a little to readjust her bag.

“Well... jokes aside... since you’re okay and I was just being a paranoid weirdo, I should get out of your hair,” Hunnigan then said.  
“You don’t have to. We could hang out, watch romantic comedies, order a pizza, have a couple of beers...”

“Helena...” Hunnigan narrowed her eyes. Too soon.  
“...the non-alcoholic kind you drink just to get that lovely bloated-feeling,” the younger woman corrected herself jokingly and Hunnigan chuckled softly.

“Nix to the romantic comedies and beer, but I could go for pizza and something like... _Alien_ ,” she then suggested.  
“Extra cheese and double-pepperoni?”

“Don’t forget the pineapple,” Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow.  
“Y’know, I’m starting to think you really are my soul mate,” Helena winked with a grin and went to order the pizza.

 

* * *

 

“Why did you let me eat all that?” Hunnigan complained, blew out a breath and slumped onto the couch.  
“So that you’d be too full to run away and instead you’d get sleepy and I’d have a chance to touch you inappropriately after you’d passed out,” Helena laughed evilly.

“Just as long as you remember that touching me inappropriately while I sleep comes with a free nosejob. Results may vary, but at least it’s guaranteed to last the length of your recovery,” Hunnigan quipped and moved to lie on her side, resting her weight on her elbow and leaning her head onto her palm and getting back to watching the movie.

“Noted,” Helena chuckled and returned her attention to the events taking place on the screen. Instead of _Alien_ they’d decided to watch something less serious, but still delightfully disturbing, namely _Child’s play._

Helena had to admit she was somewhat surprised to find out that Hunnigan was a fan of horror movies. Surprised, but then glad; having similar tastes made hanging out and watching something together easier.

“Do you mind if I straighten my legs?” Hunnigan then asked.  
“Go ahead, but you gotta promise you won’t break my nose for touching your ankles,” Helena smirked.

“Deal,” Hunnigan chuckled and moved to rest her feet in Helena’s lap. The younger woman laid her hand over Hunnigan’s ankle and without even really thinking about it, rubbed a soft circle on it with her thumb.  
“That feels nice. I could get used to having you as a personal slave,” Hunnigan jested and Helena chuckled.

“Well, the fact that touching you can potentially lead in serious bodily harm kind of makes this an extreme sport really,” she said.  
“You’re safe for now.”

“How about now?” Helena quirked an eyebrow, inching her fingers a little bit higher along Hunnigan’s shin.  
“Still in the safe zone.”

“I’m gonna stop asking, just punch me when I reach the danger zone.”  
“Should I fake a few punches here and there to keep you on your toes and make this more exciting?” Hunnigan vexed.

“That’s a great idea!” Helena grinned and slid her hands to the underside, softly massaging the calf with her fingertips.

“Holy shit you’re muscular,” she then exclaimed and Hunnigan burst out laughing.  
“Why is it so difficult for you to accept that I might have muscles?”

“I don’t know, it’s just... You don’t seem the type,” Helena shrugged. She didn’t really have an explanation, other than admit that she probably would’ve noticed this sooner had she not been too busy being drunk and concentrating all of her efforts into making sure no one would notice her drunkenness. Then again, she’d rarely interacted with Hunnigan face-to-face, figuring out someone’s body type based on seeing barely more than their shoulders wasn’t exactly easy.

“Well, it’s a boring and predictable story about the fat kid who decides enough is enough, and instead of dieting sensibly, she practically stops eating altogether and slowly slips from there to full-blown anorexia... fast-forward past hospitalization and therapy, and you’ve got me; namely a relatively stable individual with decent diet and a habit of getting some extra exercise in whenever there’s free time. You’d be amazed if you knew how much of workout I can do at the office in my spare time,” Hunnigan chuckled.

“Oh. Well, that explains it then, I guess.”

“Any other abnormalities in my physique you’d like me to explain?” Hunnigan taunted and Helena laughed softly.  
“I didn’t mean it like that. But no,” she smirked, “Scoot,” she then said and Hunnigan shifted closer to the couch’s edge, making room for Helena.

“Is my head blocking your view?” Hunnigan asked over her shoulder.  
“No,” Helena said. A lie, but she was more interested in Hunnigan than she was in the movie anyway.

She found herself noticing a lot of little details she’d never paid attention to before. The curve of Hunnigan’s full lips, the sharp line her jaw, the soft fuzz on the back of her neck (the kind that reminded Helena of a peach and practically beckoned her to reach out and feel if it was as soft as it looked), the barely noticeable little scar at the very tip of her left eyebrow that was usually hidden by the frame of her glasses if you were facing Hunnigan directly, but visible from the angle Helena was looking at her now.

 _Oh, no_ , Helena thought when she felt something warm spill and spread inside her when she watched the other woman who was completely oblivious to being watched.

Helena sighed. Stupid heart.

 

* * *

 

Monday, August 12th 2013, Helena’s 12th day sober and the first day of her second week off-duty. Also the first day of Hunnigan’s two-week summer vacation. The weather was mostly cloudy, but still just as hot and humid as always. Helena couldn’t understand why she’d even agreed to spend the day outside rather than stay inside and enjoy the air conditioning.

Well, no, that wasn’t entirely true. She knew why; because she’d wanted to spend time with Hunnigan... who’d insisted lying down a blanket on the lawn in the backyard and get some sun whenever the clouds scattered enough. Obviously she was one of those freaky people who actually enjoyed the humidity, or at the very least weren’t bothered by it.

Hunnigan turned to lie on her back before raising her legs up and flinging them back down, the movement helping her sit up effortlessly.

“Whatcha doin’?” she asked Helena.

“Practicing,” the younger woman chuckled and turned her sketchbook a little, showing Hunnigan a series of circles, lines and boxes she’d colored in.

“You know, I bet you could sell that as art to the types who consider someone tossing a bucket of paint on canvas as art,” Hunnigan commented.

“Yeah, when it comes to understanding art, that kind of pieces are where I draw the line... no pun intended,” Helena chuckled and flipped to an empty page.

“Well, each to their own, I suppose,” Hunnigan agreed and lay back down, raising her arms over her head and gripped her wrist with one hand before stretching her side and arching her back a little. Helena glanced over and swallowed hard at the sight. A part of her wondered if Hunnigan was teasing her on purpose, but she quickly dismissed that idea. She wasn’t the type to do something like that. Besides, she seemed completely oblivious to the effect she had on Helena. Frankly, Helena kept denying it herself too.

She’d told herself it was just her mind confusing gratitude, appreciation and friendship for love. An easy enough mistake to make, Hunnigan was the first person who’d been there for Helena recently, she was kind and caring, soft and gentle with a hint of touchy-feely. Thing was, she didn’t think anything of it. Occasionally softly touching Helena’s cheek, shoulder, forearm or knee wasn’t a big deal to her, it was just how she was and interacted with people she considered close friends. Helena probably wouldn’t have thought twice about it herself if it weren’t for the damn crush she’d developed on Hunnigan.

She’d tried dismissing it and ignoring it, but all of her reasonable explanations hadn’t been enough to banish the gentle flutter she felt in her chest every time she was with Hunnigan. She wasn’t confused and mistaken, she wasn’t paying extra attention to Hunnigan’s features for artistic reasons, no, she was doing it because she was falling in love with her, and with that came the heart-shaped pink glasses that made you look at someone differently, brought out beauty you’d never noticed in them before.

“Stay there,” Helena whispered suddenly.  
“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” Hunnigan smirked.

“No, I meant... Hold that pose for a while,” the younger woman elaborated with a chuckle. Hunnigan didn’t comment, just remained where she was, her back slightly arched, her hands still above her head.  
“I won’t stay like this for hours though, just so you know,” she commented, the muscle by her shoulder blade already beginning to protest to the position it was in.

“It’s fine, I just need a couple of minutes,” Helena mumbled, outlining Hunnigan’s figure.

 _I wonder if she knows she makes faces when she draws,_ Hunnigan chuckled silently as she watched Helena who kind of looked like she was constantly licking her lips, frowning deeply one moment, then biting her lower lip and grinning a little before sticking the tip of her tongue out again and chewing on it lightly.

 _It’s kind of cute actually,_ Hunnigan smirked. She lowered her arms but tried keeping the rest of her pose similar for Helena’s convenience. The younger woman didn’t seem bothered by the shift. Hunnigan didn’t distract her, instead she reached for her book and proceeded to read, listening to the quiet scratching sound Helena’s pencil made as she drew.

They’d both lost track of time and were focused on their own things until a low rumble caught their attention. For a while Hunnigan thought it was thunder, but the clouds didn’t look that dark. It might rain a bit later, but surely not yet.

“Hello to you too, tummy,” Helena chuckled, realizing the noise came from her stomach as it protested to being empty.  
“You should’ve said you were hungry.”

“I didn’t notice I was.”  
“I’ll fix you something to eat,” Hunnigan said and stood up.

“I can’t ask you to...”  
“You didn’t, I’m offering, so there,” the older woman interrupted with a smile. She glanced at her watch, it was almost seven p.m., it was dinner time anyway. She gathered up the blanket she’d lain on as Helena had insisted dragging the lawn chair into the shade and sitting there instead of joining her.

“Ah, yes!” Helena exclaimed when they got inside the house. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes as she paused to stand underneath the vent, enjoying the cool air flowing from it, “I might never leave this spot,” she added.

“Let me know if you want a chair,” Hunnigan chuckled, folded the blanket and tossed it into the closet before heading to the kitchen to make something to eat.

Despite her statement, Helena followed her into the kitchen and inquired if there was anything she could do to help. Hunnigan tasked the younger woman with slicing the bell peppers, onion and garlic while she herself focused on slicing and cooking the sausage. When the slices were done, she removed them from the skillet and replaced them with the ingredients she’d had Helena chop.

“Anything else I can do?” Helena asked then and Hunnigan shook her head. The only thing to do after sautéing the ingredients was to add some chicken broth, bring it to a boil, toss in the rice and sausage, and let it cook.

After being dismissed from chopping-duty, Helena rinsed her hands and went to sit at the table, leaning her elbow to it and resting her chin in the cup of her hand as she watched Hunnigan. She was still debating whether to tell her about her feelings or not. Hunnigan would probably shrug it off at first, like Helena had attempted to do when she’d tried convincing herself that the feeling would pass, that it was just confusion. But it wasn’t.

Worst case scenario would be that Hunnigan would decide they shouldn’t spend time together like this anymore, not even as friends, she was the type who would do that to ensure there’d be no loose ends and absolutely no room for any misunderstandings. Maybe she’d even have Helena transferred to another F.O.S. agent to avoid her. Best case scenario would be she’d say she felt the same way, and then... well, what else, rainbows and butterflies and the rest.

 _When has my life ever taken the rainbows and butterflies-route though?_ Helena thought ruefully. Never. So, saying something would undoubtedly end in awkwardness and Helena losing her best friend.

Considering that even if Hunnigan did feel the same way and wanted to pursue a relationship, it wouldn’t necessarily change much. They were used to practically cuddling as it was, and knowing what Hunnigan’s views were regarding sex, the odds were things wouldn’t escalate much beyond cuddling even if they started dating for real, so why tell her? Why risk everything if essentially nothing would change?

Because Helena found herself feeling... somewhat guilty otherwise. She almost felt like she was taking advantage of the other woman who had no idea how much Helena actually enjoyed their closeness.

 _I have to tell her. I just... what the hell am I supposed to say?_ Helena sighed ruefully.

“Are you okay? You look like someone just ran over your puppy,” Hunnigan asked slowly after having noticed the sad look.  
“It’s just my face, it looks better when it’s serious,” Helena chuckled.  
“I don’t agree,” Hunnigan shook her head and turned to plate the food before bringing it over to the table and taking a seat.

They ate, chatting casually about this and that, but the whole time Helena was distracted. There were a few moments when she’d already paused and opened her mouth to say something, but chickened out at the last minute. She’d swallowed more of her words than she had dinner.

“Thanks, that was awesome. My treat next time,” she finally said after they’d finished eating and were clearing out the dishes.

“You’re welcome,” Hunnigan chuckled, “And you’re welcome to take left-overs with you, makes for a quick lunch tomorrow if-” she continued and turned as she spoke. Her intention had been to reach to grab an empty container for the food, her words and her movement interrupted when she literally bumped into Helena. She put her hands onto Hunnigan’s hips and held onto her gently, tilting her head to the side a little and leaning over to press her lips onto Hunnigan’s softly.

Hunnigan froze for a long moment, it took her a while to even comprehend what had happened. It felt like it happened a lot slower than it did when in reality it was just a couple of quick movements her mind couldn’t quite put together in real time. Helena didn’t take the hesitation as a good sign, but instead of retreating she remained still as well, deciding that if she wouldn’t get more than this one kiss, she’d make it count.

Hunnigan raised her arms slowly, slipped them over Helena’s shoulders and then wrapped them around the younger woman, pulling her closer and finally responding to the kiss, allowing their lips to interlock. They remained like that for a while before Hunnigan finally pulled back a little.

“...I don’t know why I did that. I am sorry, uhm... Let’s just, uh... let’s...” Helena stammered and paused to inhale deeply to calm down, “I should go,” she then said awkwardly.

“Wow, I knew I’m out of practice, but I didn’t realize I was _that_ bad,” Hunnigan teased.

“What? No, no! It’s not... I’m just... Okay, look, uh... I lied, I _do_ know why I did that. I did it because I’m in love with you, but I don’t want you to think that... I, mean, I know you don’t really like dating and the rest, and I understand that you don’t... Can you please just forget that happened and what I just said?” she requested awkwardly.

“I don’t want to... and I don’t want you to go either,” Hunnigan shook her head slowly.

“...you... don’t?” Helena asked, trying to keep her heart from getting ahead of things, but was already getting excited by the suggestion that maybe this time things would turn out better than they usually did for her.

Hunnigan put her hand over Helena’s forearm softly and turned to look into her eyes.

“I think we need to talk.”

 

***


	8. So glad I met you

_I think we need to talk_.

There was no universe in which a woman saying that could possibly mean anything good would come out of it. Then again, it was just a phrase. As Helena sat on the couch and waited for Hunnigan to join her for their discussion, she admitted she definitely felt like she _needed_ a drink.

“It’s not how you seem to think it is,” Hunnigan began as she set two glasses of iced tea onto the table and took a seat next to Helena.  
“Uh... which is?” Helena asked slowly and picked up her glass, needing something to twiddle with to keep her nervous hands busy.

“That I don’t like dating or being in relationships, that’s not how it is. I enjoy the emotional side of it as much as anyone, same with kissing and cuddling and what have you; it’s the third base and homeruns that I have no interest in,” Hunnigan said and Helena smiled at her choice of words.

“I know, and I understand it. I’m not asking you to do anything...” Helena began and paused to let out a rueful chuckle, “...and as I’m saying this, I realize you’ve heard the same speech from everyone else too.”

“Pretty much. ‘It’s okay, I understand, we don’t have to do anything’, but eventually it comes up. I don’t know if it’s that I wasn’t clear enough about it or if they just thought I’d change my mind eventually, but it’s not how it works.”

“I know.”

“And add to that the fact that I really do like being close and all that, I can’t really blame them for feeling like I was sending mixed messages, but it’s...”

“I know...” Helena interrupted gently, “And I know you’ve heard all the arguments, but they came from people who didn’t really understand. I do, I know that no amount of ‘Oh, but it will be so awesome, just do it with me once and you’ll see’ will change your mind, and I’m not expecting anything,” she continued slowly.

“So, what exactly is it that you want?” Hunnigan frowned and Helena inhaled deeply. She shrugged one shoulder a little.

“This. What we already have... except maybe with added kisses and cuddles... a few ‘I love yous’ here and there maybe..? Y’know, the usual,” she summarized awkwardly.

“And the no sex-approach wouldn’t bother you?” Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow, her tone making it clear she wasn’t convinced. It always became a problem in one way or another. It was inevitable. If it didn’t manifest as constant nagging about the subject, it manifested as cheating or insistant wandering hands and endless arguments.

“Hey, I’m already _not_ having sex, how could that possibly be a change for the worse?” Helena smirked and Hunnigan chuckled, shaking her head a little.

“Look, Helena... I really like spending time with you and being close to you, but...”  
“...but you don’t feel about me the way I feel about you,” Helena interjected in a defeated tone, “I get it, and I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel uncomfortable, it wasn’t my intention.”

“You know, one of these days you’re gonna hurt yourself jumping to conclusions like that,” Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow, “Now, if you’d let me finish...”

Helena nodded slowly, blushing in embarrassment.

“Firstly, are you sure you’re not just... confusing your feelings with-”  
“I’m not!” Helena interrupted again.

“Okay. Truthfully, I do have feelings for you too, but I just really don’t want you to eventually feel... I don’t know, conned or something because...”  
“No, I wouldn’t because I already know what the deal is, I have no expectations, I wouldn’t try to guilt you into anything and I... interrupted you again, I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to dismiss me because you think that I’m just like everyone else.”

“Oh, I’ve learned ages ago that you’re not like everyone else,” Hunnigan chuckled, her comment mainly a compliment but at the same time implying that it wasn’t meant completely to flatter the younger woman.  
“Exactly,” Helena smirked, “And if you’ll have me, I’d love to show you that I’m different this way too,” she added quietly then.

“All right,” Hunnigan whispered.  
“Really? Like for real-real, not just to piss off your parents?” Helena inquired, her eyebrows rising in surprise and Hunnigan chuckled.

“Pissing off my parents would be just an added bonus to you being my girlfriend,” she said.  
“I would love to be your girlfriend.”

“Oh, and I reserve the right to break your nose if you get too handsy.”  
“Duly noted,” Helena laughed and set her unfinished glass of iced tea aside to be able to open up her arms and close Hunnigan into a gentle embrace.

* * *

 

September 1st, past midnight. Hunnigan couldn’t sleep, instead she lay awake listening to the light thunderstorm in the distance and the rain rapping at the window. She turned to look to her side and smiled.

 _I have a girlfriend,_ she thought, almost needing to say it out loud to try the words on for size. She hadn’t imagined she’d be using those words in that exact order with this precise meaning ever again.

 _I have a girlfriend who actually understands that just because I don’t wanna sleep with her it doesn’t mean that I don’t love her. Sounds kinda too good to be true,_ she mused then. It really did, and she would’ve been lying if she didn’t admit that a part of her was expecting Helena to say or do something in an attempt to move beyond cuddling. So far she hadn’t. There were plenty of kisses, caresses and cuddles... but that was it.

“Are you being a creepy ‘stares at me when I sleep’-type of girlfriend or is it just my imagination?” Helena inquired, the corner of her mouth twitching into a smirk. Her eyes were still closed, but she could sense she was being watched.

“It’s dark and I don’t have my glasses on, I can barely see anything so this hardly counts,” Hunnigan jested and Helena chuckled. She turned to lie on her side, wrapped her arm around Hunnigan and pulled her close.  
“You know, I think this is the happiest I’ve been in my life,” Helena mumbled softly and kissed Hunnigan’s forehead lazily, almost half-asleep.

“That so?” Hunnigan chuckled, leaned to nuzzle into the younger woman’s neck and kissed the pulse point lightly.  
“Mm-hm,” Helena nodded a little, raking her fingernails along Hunnigan’s back.

“Oh, I forgot to congratulate you.”  
“For what?” Helena frowned and pulled back a little to be able to look at Hunnigan.

“Thirty days sober.”  
“Really? I’d lost track. You know, this is the first time in... maybe three years that I’ve been sober for longer than a week.”

“So, how are you liking prolonged sobriety?” Hunnigan inquired then and Helena shrugged one shoulder a little.  
“I have discovered that the majority of the people I know are dicks about it.”

“How do you mean?” Hunnigan frowned.  
“Have you tried going for drinks with your co-workers and ordering a soda or a non-Irish coffee? The ones who don’t just stare at me like I’m nuts are certain that I must be pregnant... because apparently me being pregnant is more likely than me just not wanting to have a drink,” Helena explained and Hunnigan chuckled.

“Well, in their defense, they don’t know drinking was a problem for you.”  
“Even so, I’m shocked, shocked I tell you, that in today’s society you’re considered a freak if you don’t want to drink.”

“Mmm, because drinking is so much fun that there must be something wrong with you if you don’t enjoy it. I’ve heard similar arguments myself about sex,” Hunnigan smirked and Helena nodded slowly.  
“I’m so glad I met you.”

“Because I dragged out of a bar by your ear?”  
“No... well, yes, that too, but mostly because I don’t have to explain everything to you, you just get it.”

“Likewise,” Hunnigan smiled and leaned to kiss Helena gently before snuggling back to the hollow of her throat.  
“Thank you,” Helena then whispered, running her fingers through Hunnigan’s hair softly and leaving her fingers to lightly caress the back of her neck.

“For what?”  
“For not letting me ruin my life.”

 

* * *

 

“What smells so good?” Helena inquired as she scuffed into the kitchen in the morning, still dressed in nothing but her red boyshorts and a gray tank top. Hunnigan chuckled at the sleepy sight of her as she stood at the entrance, rubbing her eyes and yawning, her hair an adorable mess.

“Well, since you’re not the type who shares in a circle and therefore won’t get a fancy thirty day-chip from the group, I figured I’d make you a thirty day-chocolate chip cookie,” Hunnigan responded with a smile.  
“You’ve been up since... the crack of dawn, baking cookies?”

“I have. Am I awesome or what?” Hunnigan grinned as she leaned into Helena when the younger woman moved to stand behind her and wrapped her arms around her waist.  
“Am I lucky or what?” Helena murmured into the side of Hunnigan’s neck, kissing along it and over to her shoulder.

“No, you’re just surprisinly easy to please,” Hunnigan jested and Helena bit her shoulder for that. Hunnigan ignored the bite and leaned to take the cookies from the oven.

“Hmph, I swear the chocolate chips were neatly arranged to spell out the number thirty, but I guess it didn’t survive the baking,” Hunnigan sighed as she studied the big cookie that was surrounded by a batch of smaller ones.

“I appreciate the thought,” Helena smiled as Hunnigan set the cookies aside to cool. Once she was done, she slowly turned around to face Helena, put her arms around her shoulders and pulled her into a gentle kiss. She nudged the younger woman to move then, circling the island in the kitchen and directing her toward the living room.

“...what are you doing?” Helena inquired in a soft murmur, reluctantly breaking the kiss to ask the question when Hunnigan urged her to settle down on the couch.  
“Exploring?” Hunnigan offered as she slid her hands underneath Helena’s top, walking her fingers across the younger woman’s abdomen in a soft stroke.

“I’m gonna need a _really_ cold shower after this,” Helena mumbled, tensing up a little when Hunnigan tugged on the hem of her shirt and raised it, exposing more of Helena’s pale skin and leaning down to kiss it, tracing her way down from her upper abdomen to her belly.

“...what if you wouldn’t?” Hunnigan paused to ask and Helena frowned, then sucked in a deep breath at the implication.  
“I know you don’t... feel the same way I do about... I don’t want you to feel like you have to... not just to please me...” she stammered awkwardly.

“If there ever was anyone I wanted to do this for, it’s you.”  
“Don’t you mean ‘with’?”

“I meant what I said,” Hunnigan said softly, continuing to plant kisses onto Helena’s belly and reaching to tuck her fingertips underneath the waistband of her underwear.

“I, uh.. I’d...” Helena began breathlessly, her body responding to the touch and the suggestion as if it had a will of its own, “I’d feel guilty,” she finished, shaking her head a little.  
“You’d have no reason to feel that way,” Hunnigan argued gently, moving to lean over Helena and kissing her softly, trailing her lips along Helena’s jaw and to the side of her neck.

“...are you sure?”

“I am,” Hunnigan whispered, gently stroking Helena’s abdomen with her fingertips, pausing to circle her navel lightly before slowly beginning to make her way further down. Helena hid her face in the spot between Hunnigan’s neck and shoulder, unable to utter any further assurances that Hunnigan didn’t need to do this just to please her. Her breath caught in her throat when Hunnigan’s fingers reached their destination and stroked the soft flesh lightly before slowly adding more pressure.

“I like the way you feel,” she whispered and that was all the assurance Helena needed, finally accepting that Hunnigan wanted to do this and surrendering into the loving touch.

 

* * *

 

“Well, don’t you look like the cat that got the cream,” Leon commented when he shared an elevator ride with Helena and noticed the young woman looked uncharacteristically happy. Hell, she was actually smiling.  
“I was on top of the world and went from there to cloud nine and over the moon, thanks for noticing,” she laughed. Leon quirked an eyebrow and narrowed his eyes then as his smile turned into a wide grin.

“You totally got laid, didn’t you?”  
“Pft, like I’d tell you,” Helena scoffed.

“Come on, I thought we were bros! Where are the dirty details you’d share in a locker room?” Leon teased.  
“Do guys actually do that? Brag about women they’ve banged?”

“Not really, but don’t tell the other women,” Leon whispered, pressing his index finger over his lips to silently indicate it should be kept hush-hush, “I told you because we’re bros... now dish!”

“I’m not obligated to give you any details in return for what you offered, you volunteered that information,” Helena said smugly.  
“You’d make a great lawyer,” Leon smirked as they exited the elevator and began to make their way toward the conference room for their briefing.

Sitting there, listening to the director drone on, Leon noticed the long looks Helena gave to Hunnigan, and to his surprise, the other woman actually responded to them. Leon turned to face Helena slowly, offering her a ridiculously wide grin before mouthing _I know who it is._ Helena merely quirked an eyebrow and shrugged one shoulder in an attempt to dismiss him and his suspicions.

“Be careful, Leon, or your face might get stuck that way,” she muttered to him once the briefing was over and the agents were dismissed.  
“Well, at least let me make a couple of tawdry jokes about Hunnigan being your superior officer and you working _under_ her,” Leon requested.

“You’re such a dick,” Helena chuckled at him and punched his shoulder playfully, “And stop making it sound so cheap, it’s not like that. I really love her,” she added then and paused for a long moment when she realized she’d just said it out loud. She’d said it to Hunnigan before, but she’d never told a third party how she felt about the other woman. Somehow that made it feel even more real.

“I’m happy for you guys,” Leon smiled sweetly. Helena paused for a moment when Hunnigan was about to pass by them on the hallway. They hadn’t taken measures to keep their relationship a secret around the office, but they hadn’t publicly announced anything either. Frankly, they’d never really discussed how to behave around each other when they were at the office. Knowing Hunnigan, she’d undoubtedly want to remain professional while at work and Helena was inclined to agree, but at the same time, she wouldn’t have minded letting others know they were together.

“Hey, do you have any plans for lunch?” Helena asked Hunnigan, softly pressing her hand onto the other woman’s lower back, the gesture subtle but oddly intimate at the same time.  
“I do not. Did you have something in mind?” Hunnigan inquired, easing into the touch, silently encouraging it, letting Helena know it was okay to do that.

“Well, there’s this sushi place I’ve been wanting to try out...” Helena began as they moved along the hallway. She lowered her hand as they walked side by side, so close to each other their arms were touching, it almost looked like they were holding hands.

 _Women,_ Leon chuckled as he walked behind them, witnessing the subtle touches and tiny displays of affection he was certain only two women could get away with.

 

* * *

 

“I told Leon I love you,” Helena said suddenly. They were lying on the couch, Helena spooning Hunnigan and lazily caressing her arm as they binge-watched sci-fi-movies.  
“And?” Hunnigan chuckled.

“Well, nothing, it just felt nice to tell someone.”  
“You can tell anyone you want, I don’t mind,” Hunnigan muttered with a smile and shifted a little, looking for that perfect fit against Helena.

“I really do love you, you know.”

“I know, and I love you too,” Hunnigan smiled, turned to plant a quick kiss onto the corner of Helena’s mouth and settled to rest her head on Helena’s arm, “Rub my tush, would you?” she then requested, wiggling her butt in Helena’s lap.

“How do you make that sound so dirty?” Helena laughed.  
“It’s a gift.”

“Have you been doing squats again?” Helena teased, brought her hand down along Hunnigan’s side, over her hip and reaching to gently massage the buttock.  
“Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing?” Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow.

“Because I gotta massage your sore muscles afterward?” Helena jested. They both knew perfectly well she didn’t mind doing that, quite the contrary, she loved touching Hunnigan.

“It’s a small price you’ll have to pay if you want your girlfriend to have a tight butt and thighs that could strangle a bear,” Hunnigan chuckled and squirmed a little when Helena changed the angle of her fingers a little, letting her fingernails dig deeper into the skin and tickling her, the tingles from that spreading all the way to Hunnigan’s lower back.

“Well, you do have a point,” Helena whispered and leaned to kiss the side of Hunnigan’s neck softly before settling to lie back down, her hand still working between their bodies. Helena smiled when she thought about the situation. If someone had told her a few weeks ago that she’d be here, doing this today, she would’ve dismissed such claims as utter insanity with a side dish of nonsense.

But... that was the thing about soul mates; they showed up unexpectedly when you weren’t even looking for them.

 

**End**

* * *

 


End file.
